


Strongest of the Warlocks

by shini_amaryllis



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Always-Helpful Druids, Clueless Arthur, F/M, Female Merlin, Friendship, Healer!Merlin, Long-Distance Relationship, Magic Revealed, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-08 10:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 97,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3206582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shini_amaryllis/pseuds/shini_amaryllis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin tried to flee from her destiny after Morgause's immortal army was defeated, but the knights still found her, now her only hope is to prove to the prince that she hasn't enchanted him and that her magic has been used for the good of Camelot. She can only hope that she won't be burned at the stake for the truths she tells. FemMerlin</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beyond the Comforts of Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very mild attempt at a FemMerlin. I have absolutely nothing against Merlin being a guy and pairing him with a guy, in fact, I am addicted to it. And while I do love those pairings, I am absolutely terrible at writing them, hence why Merlin is a girl.
> 
> This fic begins at the end of Season 3 about two or three months before Season 4 starts (remember there is a year gap between them).
> 
> The reason that Merlin is being referred to as a warlock and not a witch is just because I considered that warlock implied more power.

Merlin took only a few steps towards the blood-filled Cup of Life when a force grabbed her from behind, lifting her off her feet to send her crashing into a pillar, making pain explode in her head as the world faded around her into darkness.

It seemed like such a long time before her eyes fluttered open, and she had to blink a few times to clear her vision, because she was somehow on the steps that led to the dungeon, watching as the knights, watching as Arthur, Elyan, Leon, Gwaine, and Percival was boxed in, fighting a losing battle against an enemy that could not be killed. And she did something that she would later regret.

She was a piercing sort of scream that echoed in silence and reverberated into the very soul. She could see Arthur's eyes widen as her eyes bled gold and the enemies were thrown back at the force of the raw magic.

But then she opened her eyes and she hadn't moved at all, and Morgause was holding out her hand in front of her with a sarcastic grin. "I have a feeling I won't be seeing you again," she all but purred.

"No you won't." Merlin's eyes flickered to the voice in surprise, staring up at her uncle Gaius in shock. Wasn't he supposed to stay with Gwen in the ancient castle? Well, perhaps not following orders ran in the family, then. _ **"Oferswinge!"**_

Morgause gave a soft cry of surprise and perhaps a little pain as she was flung through the air, but the attack only stunned her, and the blonde-haired sorceress was on her feet again within seconds, directing her next attack against Gaius, when Merlin flung an arm at her, sending her flying a second time, this time her head cracking against the harsh stone. She crumpled to the floor and did not stir.

Had she killed her? Merlin could feel the bile rising in her throat. She hadn't meant to! Then she felt miserable; that was just a confirmation of Arthur's beliefs that magic was evil.

"Merlin! The cup!" But she didn't have time to worry about that right now, other lives were at stake. She pulled herself up with difficulty, lurching to her feet, and stumbling to grab Excalibur where it had fallen, and using one strike to send it from the pedestal, the blood painting across a nearby pillar.

It was only much later that Merlin found some time to herself. The night was still dark, though the illumination of torchlight gave off the illusion of sunlight.

"Might I sit?"

Merlin's heart stuttered faintly at the sound of his gruff voice, the same voice that always sent shivers down her spine. She looked up, her eyes meeting Percival's and she smiled. "Since when have you needed permission?"

He sat with an echoing rich laugh. "It is always good to ask for permission."

She spared him a softer smile. "I suppose you really haven't changed, have you?"

"I try not to," Percival said, dropping a hand to cover hers, making a heat rise in her cheeks. "I did not get the chance to mention earlier…but you have grown more beautiful."

Merlin blushed much harder as he actually said the word "beautiful". "Well, I, er, I'm not quite sure that's, er, the right term to use," Merlin stumbled over her words.

"It's the best term to use in reference to you," Percival disagreed with a smile, "do you remember the last time we saw each other?"

"A few hours ago?" she piped up with an arched eyebrow before laughing at the look in his eye. "Its been years, hasn't it? Sometimes I'd look for your face in the crowd at Ealdor."

"I understand the feeling," he said, his voice low as he cupped her cheek, well aware of how her breath hitched at the movement, "but I could not linger."

"I know," she said, "and I'm sure that Arthur's grateful that you taught me how to better use my sword."

"He should be," Percival laughed. "You were terrible!"

"Oi! Shut it!" Merlin snapped back but without any bite. "Remember I'm the one who saved your sorry hide."

"I never forgot." There was something in his eyes, something that made her quite unable to move as he leaned forward to brush his lips against hers. Merlin couldn't resist a sigh, remembering the last time he had kissed her so long ago…it must have been three years at least. And it had been a kiss of farewell, much like this one was.

"Where will you go?" he whispered once they had parted. Merlin gave him a wry smile at how he effortlessly read her mind, yet again.

"I do not know," she mused aloud. "Somewhere peaceful, and free, somewhere close to the water, somewhere close to…Avalon." She grinned, kissing his cheek lightly. "I'm sure Arthur is still looking for me, so I'll have to move quickly, but we'll see each other again, I promise."

But there was something in her eyes, something sad that made him question what she was saying.

"Stay safe," he said simply.

Merlin couldn't help but laugh brightly at that comment as she stood up and stretched. "Me?" she chortled. "I'm always safe." And she tossed him a cheeky grin as she vanished inside of the castle once more.

Practically the whole castle was asleep by now, which was very good for her; better to leave when hardly anyone could see her vanishing. She had already wasted so much time by carefully avoiding Arthur, which was a far more difficult task than it seemed. At one point, she was actually hiding in Killgharrah's old chamber, but she hadn't been much of a fan of it and had left within half an hour.

However, that did not mean that patrols were not still passing through the halls, because they were. But, luckily for Merlin who had walked the halls countless times and had long since memorized the rotations, they were easy to evade, especially since they weren't looking for her, at least, not yet.

She unlocked the door into Gaius' chamber and was not surprised at the since. It was, after all, quite late. The only sound that could be heard was a soft whistling that could be heard coming from her late uncle where he was fast asleep on a workbench with bandages and empty potion bottles scattered around him. Merlin couldn't help but smile fondly at the man, but she still moved past him without speaking or thinking a word towards him.

She left all of her clothes behind (what little she owned of them) including the neckerchiefs that she was so fond of, save for her sturdy boots that she could not bear to part with. Her book of magic would be going with her too as well as all her medicinal supplies that she had brought with her and a few scraps of food to last her until she could hunt for her own.

She spared her uncle Gaius a smile as she curled his fingers around a folded piece of parchment as he slept on.

"Goodbye, Uncle," she whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head where it rested atop his arm. "Rest well."

That only left one more thing for her to do.

There was stone and rubble everywhere in the throne room, she was actually surprised that it wasn't being guarded at all, but there wasn't really a need to, now was there? It wasn't as though there was anything of value in the throne room, at least, not with all of the destruction that had been done to it.

But where was it? Where was-?

A shine of metal caught her eye and she moved slowly over a fallen pillar to lift it into the light.

The Cup of Life.

She could see her reflection in it, a girl of nineteen summers with blue eyes as dark as the ocean during a storm and long black hair falling out of her tight braid.

" _Emrys. The cup is in your care now. Guard it well. The future of this land depends on it."_

So much depending on something so small…but she would take it with her and guard it with her life if she had to as Iseldir had told her to. She undid the last of her braid as she shoved the cup into her bag before pulling the hood up over her face and moving quickly out of the door and through the empty corridor.

The halls were dark as she moved through them, surprisingly silent for one who was often regarded as clumsy.

"You're leaving."

She froze mid-step at the all too-familiar voice of one of Prince Arthur's closest confidants, Sir Leon. She could not bring herself to speak, so she remained standing where she was.

"Merlin?"

"Yes," she said jerkily, turning back to look him in the eye, and he was startled. The hood of her cloak hardly obscured her face. The sharp, pale cheekbones were as obvious as the deep blue of her eyes like sapphires on a moon. "I am leaving before I must in a coffin."

"Merlin," Leon tried to speak, but she cut him off.

"Don't," she said, sounding pained, "please don't, Leon. I don't want him to have to choose between keeping me on while knowing who I am,  _what_  I am, or killing me for being a-a warlock."

"Merlin," he jogged up to her so that he was facing her, "our Sire will not-"

"Won't he?" she asked sadly, one of the tears that had been hanging desperately to her eyes fell down a cheek. She smiled up at him, gripping his shoulder tightly and leaning upwards to kiss his cheek. "Look after yourself, Leon."

"And what should I tell Percival?" he couldn't resist asking. Leon watched as her expression faltered at the mention of the man who had completely captured her heart. "I've seen the way you look at each other…you cannot just be old friends."

She bit down on her lip slightly. "Oh, but we are. Perhaps we could have been something more, but times change. It would be better if one wasn't to engage into a relationship with a known Warlock." It was a vain thought, she knew, after all, she had just kissed the man (or he kissed her, if you wanted to be specific), but it was also very true.

"Maybe he doesn't see it that way," Leon said, watching her eyes closely. "You do not have an evil heart, Merlin, magic has not made you a bad person."

"Magic hasn't made me into anything but who I am," Merlin snapped. She pressed two fingers to his forehead, and before he could say anything, she murmured two words, her eyes burning gold briefly.  _ **"Onslæp nu."**_

She barely caught him as he fell asleep from her spell, laying him gently down onto the ground.

"Goodbye, Leon," she whispered, "Live well."

No one would notice that she was gone for a good while, at least that was the hope. But they would be looked for a young woman with tightly bound hair and wearing more masculine clothes, they wouldn't be looking for a young woman wearing a long dress and cloak with unbound hair.

"Halt!"

Merlin kicked her faithful horse, Triton's, sides with a few whispers of her ancient tongue and she surged past them before they could even shout a warning, racing through the gates and out of Camelot. It pained her in a way that she could not possibly describe to leave the castle behind. It had been her home for more than a year, but she wouldn't take back anything that she had done, even if it meant that she had to flee.

Even if it meant that Arthur would hate her for as long as she lived.

Even if it meant not seeing Percival again for quite some time.

So she clung tightly to the horse, following the path until she came across a divergence. She glanced back towards the castle, almost mournfully. Arthur wouldn't have raised the alarm for a simple maidservant, and for once she was grateful of her inferior birth if no other reason than it would allow her to travel farther without interference from the Knights of Camelot.

She turned back around and gasped, almost falling off her horse in the process as it seemed that a number of people had surrounded her in a matter of seconds. She struggled to free her sword where it was attached to her saddle when a man at the front lifted his hood to reveal the only familiar face.

"Iseldir!" she gasped out his name in surprise. He had visited her several times in her childhood. Her mother had told her that it was Iseldir that had helped in her birth, and his visits were to watch how her magic grew over time. But she could never be sure if any of its growth had been good or bad.

"Lady Emrys." He said the name that the Druids called her with a practiced tongue. "We have been awaiting you." He inclined his head slightly in respect. "Please." He extended his hand to her, and without much hesitation, Merlin grasped it, and thus left the name Merlin behind her.

* * *

"I want her found!" Arthur's voice echoed with anger, the noise reverberating in the mostly silent room.

"Sire," Leon said, bowing his head slightly, having recovered from the sleep spell that Merlin had cast upon him the night previously, "Merlin is well endowed with the ability to hide in plain sight. If she doesn't want to be found, she won't be."

"You're telling me that I should just abandon her?" Arthur demanded, slamming his hand onto the table in anger. "She's saved my life more times than I can count! She's more than just a servant, she's  _my_  servant and she's far more loyal than the lot of you!"

Silence followed his words and he sighed, ready to take them back, but Gwaine stepped forward. "You're right," he said, "she is more loyal than any of us, Princess, so you have to ask yourself why she would be running in the first place." He gave him a rather significant look. "We were all there."

_Merlin came down the stairs took one look at the knights cornered in the cell by Cenred's knights and screamed. The scream echoed so loudly that Arthur could have sworn that it cracked the windows as Cenred's soldiers reeled backwards and he and his knights clutched their ears to drown out the sound. By the time he looked up, she had gone._

"She thinks you'll execute her," Lancelot added. "She knows what Camelot sees of magic and it is not good." He didn't bother mentioning that Merlin had been with him, attempting to spill the blood from the Cup of Life and couldn't have been where they had seen her. But what was done was done. Perhaps she had projected herself to Arthur's side, but Lancelot could not be completely sure.

Arthur gritted his teeth in true anger. He hated magic, hated it with a burning passion. So the knowledge that Merlin had magic this whole time was the ultimate betrayal, but he couldn't forget the good that she had done, the sacrifices she had made for him, the loyalty she had shown him. All he wanted now was an explanation from her.

"Do you think I would execute her?" he asked lowly.

"Wouldn't you?" Lancelot asked with an arched eyebrow. "After all, those that use magic are executed."

"If I may be frank, Sire?" Leon interjected smoothly, drawing all eyes to him. "I think there is a different matter at hand to consider. I believe that Merlin has known for quite some time of the true nature of Lady Morgana."

"Then why wouldn't she tell anyone?" Elyan queried with curiosity.

Arthur's face darkened as he remembered the serious expression on her face when she had said that she had been dying, but he had laughed it off. After all, who would want to kill a lowly servant like Merlin? But Merlin wasn't lowly at all, she was in training to be the next Court Physician and she had magic! A combination not to be taken lightly.

"It is possible that Lady Morgana had been threatening her to keep her silence."

A glare settled onto Arthur's face. "I want her found," he said lowly, "and knowledge of her magic will not leave this room, am I clear?"

Sirs Leon, Elyan, Percival, Lancelot, and Gwaine gave a murmured assent, bowing as the Prince of Camelot left, and the other knights followed suit, except for Leon and Percival.

Leon gripped Percival's shoulder in a movement that should have been reassuring but wasn't really. "We'll find her, Percival."

"I do not question if we will find her," Percival said in a low voice, "only if she will want to be."

So Sir Leon left him to his thoughts, his mind lingering on the first time that he had met the young warlock.

_The last thing that Percival remembered was a pair of eyes the color of sapphires, and then nothing, so when he woke up startled in a stranger's home, the first thing he tried to do was sit up._

" _Hey! What in the name of the stars above are you doing?" A voice demanded. "Do you know how hard it took me to work on that wound of yours?"_

_He stared. The eyes of cobalt from his memory were fiery as their owner glared at him without reservation. They belonged to a young girl who couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen summers. Her long black hair hung over her shoulder in a loose braid, contrasting with the fairness of her skin._

" _Don't answer that," she advised, grumbling to herself, "what would men know of dressing wounds, anyways? Roll onto your side."_

_He hardly had time to follow her orders before she did it for him, still grumbling about men. "You've reopened your injury," she noted wryly. "I need you to hold still. This will hurt."_

_He hissed as she brushed something that stung against his wound._

" _Sorry," she apologized, not sounding quite so irate as before, and Percival couldn't help but glance up at her from his position, distinctly recognizing the tell-tale golden eyes of those who use magic._ _ **"Ahlúttre bá séocnes. Þurhhæle bræd."**_

_The pain lessened and she replaced the soiled bandage with a fresh one before returning him to lay face-up on the bed once more. "Is that better?"_

" _Yes," he rasped out, "thank you."_

_She gave him a soft smile that made her entire face seem much more pleasant than before. "It's no problem, it's kind of my job."_

_Percival looked at her up and down. "You are a physician?"_

" _In training," she added, cupping the back of his neck to lift it slightly in order to pour a bit of water down his throat. "What's your name?"_

" _Percival," he said, grateful that speaking was no longer as difficult, "and yours, Milady?"_

_Her fair cheeks burned a bright pink. "Oh, I'm not a lady at all, I'm just Merlin, its, er, nice to meet you, but, er, I have to go, I'll, er, check in with you soon." He could barely stifle his amusement as she all but threw herself from the room._

* * *

The months passed slowly for Arthur and his knights. Arthur himself had had to stop himself countless times from yelling her name, and Gwen had grown much more somber in the absence of her dear friend.

"All dead, except for I and Sir Cador," Sir Vidor said solemnly. "I fear we would have fallen as well if not for the Lady of Avalon."

"The who?" Arthur asked in confusion.

Vidor and Cador shared a glance. "We had heard tale of woman who now lives on the Isle of the Blessed, Sire, a woman with skills in healing. We would have been dead if she had not joined into the fight and defeated the last two of Cenred's men."

"This woman," Arthur said, "did you ever see her face?"

"No, Sire," Cador apologized swiftly, "she kept her hood up, but she did bear a strange crest. A white dragon circling a tower."

Arthur frowned. That was no crest that he had knowledge of; what was Merlin playing at?

"Thank you," he said, remembering the two knights before him that were waiting for a dismissal. "That will be all."

Could it really be Merlin, though? Would she really risk losing her cover for the sake of a few Knights of Camelot? Arthur hid a chuckle. Who did he think he was talking about? Merlin went above and beyond for Camelot, for him…He sighed deeply. Had it really been seven months since he had seen her last?

"Agravaine, can you find Leon for me? I have something I wish to discuss with him."

His uncle who had returned to Camelot once word had spread of Arthur ruling as regent in the stead of Uther after the betrayal of his half-sister Morgana, bowed his head respectfully and left to search for the knight in question.

"Sire?" Arthur's focus shifted once Leon stood before him.

"Collect Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan, and Percival," he ordered of him, "we ride out at dawn."

Leon's eyes widened a fraction, but he did not comment while they were in the presence of others. "It will be done, Sire."

Arthur gave him a nod, striding out of the hall, only to be found in his chambers not twenty minutes later by Guinevere. While Arthur generally appreciated her presence, he was far too busy to take note of it this time.

"Gwen-"

"You've found her, haven't you?" Gwen's dark eyes were alight with hope. "I heard that the knights are preparing to leave at dawn. Does that mean you've found her?"

Arthur took both of her hands in his, ignoring the jolt that her touch sent through his body. "There is a rumor," he began slowly, "of a woman who could be Merlin."

Gwen's eyes filled with tears and Arthur was forcefully reminded that Merlin was her closest friend as well as his. "You'll bring her home?"

Arthur wanted dearly to say "Yes," but he wasn't sure if- "If its what she wants. Now I must pack. Was there anything else?"

"No, my lord," she said, a bit breathless with excitement now that the knowledge of Merlin's possible return. "But I do have a request."

Arthur could never resist her. "Name it."

Her dark eyes implored his. "Please take me with you."

Anything but that. "Gwen," Arthur sighed, "I need you here."

"But I'm sure if I'm there I can help convince her!" Gwen insisted. "I can show her that she still has a home in Camelot!"

"That's why I need you here," Arthur said in a voice that was far more gentle than he usually spoke in. "I want there to be someone here to welcome her home, someone who isn't Gaius."

Gwen bit her lip but she finally nodded. "You'll be safe, then? All of you?"

Arthur could hear Merlin's laughter. _"This is his royal Pratiness you are speaking of, Gwen. He doesn't even_ know _what safe is!"_


	2. Road to the Isle of the Blessed

"Lady Emrys." He said the name that the Druids called her with a practiced tongue. "We have been awaiting you." He inclined his head slightly in respect, much to her surprise. "Please." He extended his hand to her, awaiting her.

Merlin looked at the hand that Iseldir had offered, and without any second thoughts, she grasped it, allowing him to guide her down from the horse.

"We have been expecting you," he said calmly, bowing lowly, far enough that a healthy bit of color had risen in Merlin's cheeks.

"You have?" she couldn't help but ask, faintly startled as he led her off the path and into the wild, but he did not answer her. In fact, it was only once that they had reached the encampment for his clan and invited her to sit across from her before a small fire away from most of his clan.

She glanced at his figure through the flames. "How did you know where to find me?"

He only gave her a mysterious smile. "I know many things."

Irritation flashed in her eyes.

"One must wonder, though," he continued, "if it is execution you are running from, or your destiny."

Merlin couldn't help but glare into the fire, muttering mutinously, "Can it not be both?"

Iseldir's smile was wry. "At times it may seem so, but today I have a suggestion for you."

Merlin lifted her head, unable to stop the surprise from flooding her face and coloring her voice. "What kind of suggestion?" she asked.

"The road to priesthood."

She stared at him, for a moment thinking that he was joking, but Iseldir was not a man to jest. The journey to becoming a High Priestess was very difficult and involved one immersing herself very deeply into magic, and the only place to do that was at the Isle of the Blessed.

She bit down on her lip, unease flickering across her face. "I do not think that I am strong enough to become a High Priestess."

This idea seemed to amuse him. "You are known to us as the Great Emrys, the Greatest Warlock the world will ever know."

Merlin started slightly in surprise as he used the word Warlock. Females that were born with inherent magic skills were known as Witches, while the males were known as Warlocks, but Merlin had only mentioned to one person how much she preferred to be known as a Warlock than be known as a Witch.

"How did you know that I like to be called a Warlock over being called a Witch?" she asked cautiously.

Iseldir smiled that mysterious smile of his. "You are not known to us as the Greatest Witch because you do not want to be."

"But how could you possibly know that?" Merlin pressed. "I've only told Kilgharrah that." Granted, they hadn't spoken much on the subject, only enough for Merlin to ask him to never call her a Witch.

"You are a legend."

Merlin could feel her cheeks burning like the sun. "I'm-I'm not sure that's completely true," she disagreed, her voice darkening slightly. "I'm just a simple servant." Simple, foolish, never doing as she was told, in Arthur's words. She could not fit the criteria for a legend, that was Arthur, not her. It was never her.

"Simple, you are not," Iseldir disagreed. "Go to the Isle of the Blessed and you will see."

She looked into his eyes and she saw certainty there, certainty of who she was, certainty of who she would become, and so she stood and got right back on her horse and rode off in the direction of the Isle.

However, if she had been expecting to get there by nightfall, then she was foolishly mistaken, because by the time night had indeed fallen, she was still on her own with very few supplies, an ancient artifact and a book on magic in her bag, and hardly a change of clothes. And sadly, she was little closer to her destination than she had been hours previously.

"Rest, Triton," she murmured to the horse as she dismounted to stumble over to a tree to use as a chair of sorts to rest her back against. Merlin twirled her fingers slightly, feeling the familiar warmth of her magic as it cocooned her, her words whispered in a low hiss, indiscernible after years of practice to those who were not looking properly. It was a rather simply spell, one that she had learned many years ago, before her mother had sent her to Gaius to learn from him. She had never told her mother that some spells had come to her in her dreams, whispered as though they were deep secrets that belonged only to her.

This spell was one of invisibility that could hold even if the caster fell into a slumber. It would shield her and Triton from unwanted guests, even if those unwanted guests were trackers, they would never find them, that she was certain of.

The bark bit into Merlin's back through the dress (and oh how she was regretting changing into more feminine clothes, it would be the death of her, she swore!) as she pulled the spare cloak over her as a makeshift blanket.

She sat there for a very long time, her thoughts a muddle, the scent of the forest curling around her like woodsmoke from a freshly burning fire. She wanted nothing more than to sleep, but she remembered the look in Arthur's eyes when she had projected herself to him when he and the knights were about to be overrun by Morgause's army of immortal soldiers. She had seen the shock and confusion his bright eyes had reflected, but in the back of her mind she thought she saw betrayal and anger as well.

Would he not wish her dead? Would he not wish her put to death for her crimes of magic-usage within Camelot's borders?

He would not want her even remotely near him, she thought miserably to herself. It would have been better for the both of them if she was dead. Then her old friend would not have to search for a traitor to kill.

It was almost with great relief that sleep finally overtook her out of exhaustion if nothing else.

* * *

"Hold still, Will! You'll only make it worse!"

"Maybe I would if you didn't take so  _bloody_  long!"

Merlin scowled in irritation at her oldest friend. William worked in the fields, like all the men of Ealdor did, but he was infinitely careless with his tools and came back to see her for want of medical attention every few days. Mostly they were small scratches, for which she was grateful, but some were a bit more serious.

"Maybe," she said through gritted teeth as she pressed a poultice firmly to his chest, "you wouldn't have anything to complain about if maybe,  _I dunno,_  you actually knew what you were doing?"

They were now both glaring at each other with fires in their eyes that could perhaps ignite the village and burn it to the ground before Cenred could even notice a thing had changed.

So, rather than be thrown out, William held still, allowing her to finish her work and tie the bandage over his chest. It was only then that he spoke once more.

"So, who's the boy?"

"What boy?" she asked in a despairing voice that she could only gain from dealing with him. She tossed the blood-soiled rags into the fire as she cleared her work bench away, far more interested in the flask she had hanging lowly over a small fire, bubbling ominously with a sickly shade of grey as its color. But clearly it was the right color, because Merlin took a thick bottle and uncorked it, using a pair of tongs to remove the flask from the heat and pour it carefully into the container before placing the used flask to be washed in the sink after it had cooled.

"The boy you saved," William said, rolling his eyes in exasperation, "the one in the cot."

"Boy is hardly a term I would use to describe Percival," Merlin said in a mild voice, bending close to examine the mixture before eyeing a few similar potion-making instruments she had working around the room. How she kept all of them straight in her head, William did not know. "He is a man, a man in need of medical attention is still a man by age and by size, Will."

Will eyed her in curiosity and then his eyes all but popped out of his head as he gaped at her. "Oh my  _God!_  You  _like_  him!"

Merlin almost dropped the vial she was inspecting as she turned to him, completely red in the face. "What are you going on about?" she demanded, her voice a low hiss, a dangerous sign if he ever saw one. "I do  _not!"_

"You do!" he accused. "You've fallen head over heels for that silent, but strong type that you said you never would!"

"Oh, shut up!" she barked, the desperation leaking into her voice as she glanced towards the back room where her patient was sleeping. Her magic told her that, thankfully, despite all of the racket that Will had caused, it hadn't been enough to wake him up. Thus, Merlin was spared of the embarrassment of having to explain herself to the man.

It didn't matter if she had a fondness for Percival, she was first and foremost a physician (or a healer, depending on who you asked) and she was not going to jeopardize the health of her patient because she had feelings for them.

"Just go, Will," she sighed, completely spent after a day of treating so many sick children, "and if you come back tomorrow, I'm poisoning you with undiluted hellebore."

Will knew a threat when he heard one. "Alright, alright," he conceded. "You win."

"I always win," she scoffed, replacing all of her herbs in their rightful places, only ceasing cleaning up when she knew that he was gone. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, steadying her heart as she spooned a bit of vegetable broth from the cauldron simmering over the fire into a crude wooden bowl. The tips of her fingers only burned slightly at the heat of the soup as she moved down the hall to where her patient was hardly stirring.

He smiled up at her as his awareness came more clearly. "Hello."

"Hello," she repeated with an almost shy smile. "How are you feeling today?"

"If I said better than yesterday, would you believe me?" Percival asked.

"Hm, possibly," Merlin hummed as she set the bowl of soup down beside him as she removed the bandage wrapped around him, inspecting the healing wound. "It is a little better than yesterday, but it'll still be a while before you can properly function completely."

"Wonderful," he muttered lowly, but Merlin still caught it.

"Do you have somewhere to be?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow as she had him lean forward slowly so that she could reposition his pillows behind him, helping him lean into them in more of a sitting position so that he could sip the broth without too much interference.

"Not particularly," he said giving a small wince as he moved, taking the bowl as she gave it to him, but his grip trembled.

"Careful!" Merlin reached out to steady his larger, stronger hands with her smaller ones. Her face flooded with heat at just how close to each other they were, how the very touch of his hands sent sparks of lightning through her body.

Percival had never noticed just how blue Merlin's eyes were.

"Sorry," she said quickly, hiding her face as she searched for his spoon.

"I'm never going to be able to repay you for all you've done," he said once her back was to him. "I owe you a life debt."

"No, really, you don't," Merlin was quick to disagree, her cheeks glowing once more, "really, it's no trouble…besides, I'm sure I can come up with a way for you to repay me."

"Oh?" Now he was curious.

"Just how good are you with the blade?"

* * *

Merlin didn't want to awaken the next day, but necessity demanded it. She simply could not afford to remain where she was in the situation that she had created for herself. The spell had held during the night, much to her silent relief. Her body ached from the combination of prolonged usage of magic and sleeping against a tree trunk the uncomfortable way that she had the previous night.

Merlin patted Triton's side softly. "Are you hungry and thirsty, Triton?"

The horse pawed at the ground, thrusting his great head upwards and downwards as if he was in agreement with her words. She smiled.

"Well, come along then, let's not see if we can't find some lovely water and hay for you to snack on." She didn't really even have to lead him by the reins, but she did anyway, needing her hands to be in control of something. It was times like this that she was grateful to not have Arthur around; he was always one for shattering silences and ruining moods. But Merlin liked the peace and quiet. She liked listening to the sound of the birds chirping in the trees and the sound of the wind whistling through the branches. It was magical.

Merlin chuckled softly to herself; it was decidedly strange for her to view it as magical when she did far more awing things with her magic, but it was the truth. Nature had always been magical to her, it was one of the things that had drawn her to herbology in the first place.

She murmured a short spell and the grass before them melded and faded, turning into hay. "Enjoy your lunch, I'm going to look ahead for some water."

She doubted that he heard her, far too interested in his meal as she strode through the ferns and grass to find the edge of the river. It was as clear as a crystal, flowing smoothly past her, fish sparkling underneath in the sun. Merlin gulped the water greedily, easily ignoring the slight salty tang it contained.

"I guess its going to be fish for lunch, then," she murmured to herself, searching for something to stab at the fish with.

She was no stranger to hunting, being Arthur's maidservant demanded that she must accompany him on his hunting trips. And fishing was much easier than it looked, so she had her food speared and roasting over a quickly-made fire in a matter of minutes. The scent of herbs filtered through her nose as she removed it from the heat, shutting off the fire by a mere lowering of her hand.

She was halfway through her fish when she heard it, the crunching of leaves under a boot, twigs snapping under the pressure of one's weight. Merlin's hands went to her sword, the curved hilt fitting like a glove into her hand as she carefully hid herself behind a tree nearby, straining her hearing for the person that was following her.

"Merlin?"

Merlin let out a small squeak of surprise, sheathing the blade at her waist as her mother came around the corner. "Mum! What are you doing here?!"

Hunith took in her daughter with a smile of relief. She had been expecting her only child to look more like skin and bones, but her face only held the same ancient exhaustion that her father's had borne with the same ancient knowledge as well. Her dark hair was already knotted with dirt and twigs and her deep eyes had become a bit wild, but she was still Hunith's little girl, the child that had such a destiny to bear.

Joy had filled Hunith when she had first discovered that she was pregnant. For years she had thought she would never be able to carry a child at all, let alone to term, but then her little miracle baby happened and it was like all of her dreams had come true. But then Balinor was forced to leave her to keep her safe before she had the chance to tell him that she was with child.

It was only thanks to Iseldir, a traveling Druid strong in magic, that she was even able to give birth. She had fallen ill as she had traveled back from a visit with her elder brother, Gaius, and Iseldir had found her purely by accident and assisted her as she went into labor.

She had been surprised and pleased to see that her little bundle of joy and happiness was a little girl, already with a shock of dark hair on her skull and blue eyes as dark as sapphires.

"She is a gift," he had told her, "she will guide Albion into a new age. She alone can save he who will unite us all."

She had always wondered how could her little girl really be that powerful, but her power was evident now for all to see.

"Prince Arthur sent some knights to Ealdor," she said, remembering that her daughter had asked her a question, "he's looking for you."

Merlin sagged at her words, but she had been expecting it. Her eyes darted behind the older woman, peering through the branches of the trees. "You could have been followed!"

"Your father taught me a few things before he left," Hunith said in a chiding voice, but Merlin ignored it. Her eyes glowed golden as she forced her sight further, in the direction that her mother had come from. She followed it for miles upon miles in a matter of seconds.

"Your trail has been found," she stated grimly, "they will find you, and me, in a matter of hours. You should have stayed away, Mother."

Hunith was more stunned at how she switched from Mum to Mother (she found she preferred it when her daughter called her Mum, she always sounded far too serious when she called her Mother). "Merlin, what happened? The knights wouldn't tell me a thing? Why aren't you with Prince Arthur?"

"Mother. I'm here because I am what I am," Merlin said in a despairing voice, "I slipped up, alright? I slipped up, and I used magic in front of him and I had to run, run before he burned me at the stake."

"Oh, Merlin…" The deep sadness and understanding pulled at Merlin's heartstrings. "The prince doesn't want you dead, you know that."

Merlin laughed hollowly. She remembered what her mother had said that day she, Arthur, Gwen, and Morgana had helped to best the brigand, Kanen and his band of thieves. She had said that Merlin and Arthur were two sides to the same coin, but that coin no longer had any value, certainly not to Arthur.

"No, I'm pretty certain that he does," she said, "and why shouldn't he? I have magic, so I am evil."

"Merlin-"

"Please, Mother, go," Merlin very nearly begged, "they will find you soon and you cannot be near me; I am dangerous. Take the road south and circle around back to Ealdor."

"And what about you?" Hunith demanded, cupping the chin of her daughter so that she was forced to look into her mother's eyes. "Will you be safe?"

"I will, Mother, I promise," she said, her tone solemn and serious. "Where I am going they cannot follow."

"And where are you going?"

"To the Isle of the Blessed."

Hunith's eyes widened. "Merlin, are you sure?"

Merlin gave her a small smile, kissing the crown of her head like she had so often done when Merlin was a child. "Not at all, but it is the best option for me now. I promise I'll send word to you soon, but I have to go."

"I understand," Hunith said with a soft voice as Merlin tied her bag tightly onto her horse's back as he rejoined them after a long drink at the river before hoisting herself onto the saddle. "Do take care of yourself, Merlin, if nothing else."

Merlin smiled. "I promise, Mother." She gave her hand one last squeeze before racing off in a direction that Hunith had never traveled in with barely a glance back. But Hunith caught the flash of gold in her eyes the second time that day and the hiss of a spell she did not recognize.  **"Andslyht!"**

The wind rustled around Hunith, the tracks fading and making it seem as though Hunith had taken the trip to where she was for no reason.

Wind and branched collided as she leaned closer to Triton. The Isle wasn't too far away, now that she thought about it, but it had been harder to see in the darkness of the night before, so she wasn't surprised that she had stopped where she had the night before (despite that she had been mostly running on adrenaline).

"There it is!" she cried out as they finally rounded over the last hill to stop before the lake. She could feel the beaming smile breaking across her face at the sight of the ruined castle, its towers in a crumbling state on top of an island of lush green. "Look Triton, our new home!"

Triton nickered as if in agreement, heading right into the water once he realized it was not as deep as it seemed. The Cup of Life grew heavier in her bag as the waded further into the water, closer to its home.

Merlin glanced back, melancholy flitting across her face as she thought of all those that she was leaving behind.

Her mother, Arthur, Gwen, Leon, Gwaine, Gaius, and most importantly, Percival. The very thought of his name choked the breath from her lips, but he always had that habit, whether he was there to see it or not.

But her life in Camelot was over, much like her life in Ealdor, there was no going back. One could only move forward from this point, and that was what she intended to do.

Onward and ahead to the Isle of the Blessed, to hours upon hours of intense studying of the Old Religion and practicing of the art. On to priesthood. On to becoming the High Priestess that Iseldir knew that she could become.

On to becoming the Great Emrys.

On to life as a Warlock unhindered by fear of discovery.


	3. High Priestess

As it so happened, Merlin's road did not lead her directly to the Isle of the Blessed. She first found herself on an unsteady path up the White Mountains towards the outcropping she knew Kilgharrah had taken up refuge. Kilgharrah was and had been many things to her: an enemy, a confidant, a mentor…but she wanted his opinion. He too was a Creature of the Old Religion.

"Why have you come to me, Merlin?" the Great Dragon asked her once she had finished her tale of woe.

"Becoming a High Priestess…" Merlin swallowed her worry. "What if it's not meant for me?"

Kilgharrah chuckled in a way that was hardly reassuring. "Merlin," he said, "you are the greatest Warlock this world will ever see. You have the strength to become a High Priestess, there is no doubt about that."

"The High Priestesses I've known haven't exactly been good role models for the title," Merlin grumbled, speaking in reference to Nimueh and Morgause.

"They abused the power that was granted to them," Kilgharrah corrected, "you will not."

"How can you be certain?" Merlin countered. "For all you know, I could be corrupted by that power and that knowledge."

"You really don't see it?" Kilgharrah asked in amusement. "You heal, Merlin, you preserve, and you protect, that is why you are the greatest Warlock, because you choose life over power."

Merlin blinked in surprise. Had he just given her a compliment?

"Those are the qualities that make you the perfect choice for a new High Priestess."

Merlin opened her mouth before shutting it quickly with a confused expression. Could she really be the person for this? Could Emrys be the next High Priestess? It seemed too fanciful to her. Merlin combed a few fingers through her windswept curls, giving a low sigh as she leaned against the sharply jutting stone wall of the cave in which Kilgharrah rested.

"What is it that is truly bothering you, young Warlock?" he asked her in his rumbling voice.

Merlin blinked harshly, fighting against the tears that threatened to flow and stain her cheeks as she sank to the ground. "I left Camelot," she said finally. "I left my uncle, I left Gwen, I left Arthur, and Gwaine, and Lancelot, and Leon, and Elyan…and Percival…what I am is a coward who doesn't deserve a title like the Greatest Warlock to Ever Walk the Earth."

"That title was not given to you lightly," Kilgharrah warned. "However, what you view as cowardice others view as self-preservation. Your leaving of Camelot has been prophesied, just as it has been prophesied that you will help Arthur lead Albion into a new age."

"But I feel so alone," Merlin breathed, "how can I go on knowing that Arthur could be in danger and I can do nothing to prevent it?"

"What is done is done," Kilgharrah said simply. "You know what would happen if you had remained in Camelot, Merlin, the prince would not take kindly to having a sorceress in his midst. By leaving you are giving him the opportunity to come to terms with what you are."

"But he doesn't like my kind, remember?" Merlin said in a sullen voice. "Magic never seems to work out well for the Pendragons."

"It may seem that way," Kilgharrah conceded. "But only time will tell."

Time…it seemed that that was all Merlin had these days.

"Perhaps you're right," she said finally, "and I suppose the only way to revive the Old Religion would be to learn from scratch at the Isle of the Blessed."

"It is the way I would suggest," Kilgharrah said, nodding his massive scaled head in agreement. "And remember, without you Arthur will never succeed, without you there will be no Albion."

Merlin's mouth twisted into a wry smile at the all-too-familiar words. "You say that, but I've never really believed it."

"That is because you have always underestimated your abilities," Kilgharrah retorted. "Modesty has been one of your stronger qualities."

"Better to be humble than to be arrogant," Merlin said with a small shrug, "but I'm not that humble, it only seems that way because I'm with Prince Pratiness most of the time."

Kilgharrah could find nothing to say in response to that, so he simply watched her pensively for a short while, mildly fascinated by the different expressions her face filtered through in the time span of a number of minutes.

"Do you think I would make a good High Priestess?" she asked finally in a much quieter voice than usual, her eyes strangely bright, her eyes seeming to flicker a brighter color than the usual perpetual dark blue.

"I think you would be unparalleled in the area," Kilgharrah remarked, "but as always, it is your decision that matters, and it is your decisions that will shape the future more than anything else."

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked in confusion.

"You will understand one day," Kilgharrah said with a rusty laugh. "And one day you will either be grateful for or abhor what you have done."

To Merlin it didn't seem to be a very comforting thought. But he was right in a way; this was the perfect opportunity for her to expand her knowledge of magic (and healing, a voice in the back of her mind reminded her), without having the boundaries of Camelot that forced her to hide her true self day in and day out.

It was freeing in a way, being away from Camelot. She missed it dearly, yes, and all of her friends, but being where the Old Religion was the strongest…it filled her with excitement and longing at the same time.

"Thank you," she said, standing and brushing her dress as she did so, bowing respectfully to the Great Dragon, "for your council."

"Always happy to service a Dragonlord."

She laughed.

* * *

The Isle of the Blessed was an island of castle ruins shrouded in mystery and intrigue, the very center of the Old Religion. Merlin could feel it every time she approached, and this time was no different.

She could not deny being attracted to it, she had always felt that way, but now, the isle seemed to be almost welcoming her as she dismounted from Triton, murmuring a promise to be back shortly, moving swiftly to the thin dock with a boat long enough to fit a few grown men in it. The boat was tied loosely to the dock, frothing against the wood from the gentle pull of the small waves of the lake.

" **Gesigle,"**  Merlin murmured, her magic forcing the boat away from the dock and smoothly into the mist.

For a while, that was all she could see: fog and mist. But then it cleared and she was allowed the sight of its magnificence. Others would see its crumbling structures, but Merlin saw it as being so much more. The ruins were perfection, not even Camelot could compare to it.

And  _magic!_  Magic was all around her! It blanketed her like a tight protective barrier, as if to keep her safe from harm.

Merlin stepped out of the boat and into the ruins, brushing her hands against the stone in awe as she had not been able to do before. The magical artifacts held in her pack felt lighter in the presence of the magic of the Old Ways.

She felt…at home for the first time in a very long time.

Merlin clapped her hands to her mouth, hiding her smile as she spun in a circle, taking it all in.

She gave a sudden wild laugh, wondering why she had been so reluctant to return to the Isle of the Blessed in the first place. Clearly, this was the best option for her, but she also knew that the Isle had a bad reputation. Dark magic, Wyverns…but she didn't see any Wyverns now, perhaps they were being kept at bay by another force.

A sudden gust of wind directed her towards an empty archway (though, this was hardly surprising as the structure was abandoned, save for her). Merlin's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she took a few cautious steps forwards. It sounded like…a song, soft and gentle like the wind, lulling her forward.

On instinct alone, she followed it, slipping a little on the stone as she descended the cracked staircase beyond the archway, following the humming whisper until she came to a sealed door.

" **Aliese,"**  she murmured, raising her hands, her eyes flashing gold. For a moment, it seemed as though the spell had no effect, but then the door creaked open and she was granted entry, as if the door had been waiting to see if she was worth opening to.

The inside chamber was a treasure trove, but only to someone like Merlin. Her eyes brightened at the sight of many tomes that were no doubt filled with knowledge on only one subject: magic. She took a step forward to grab one of the tomes when a stone shifted under her foot and she was forced instead to turn her eyes downwards to a piece of loose floor.

Merlin knelt, lifting the stone away gently, her eyes widening as she withdrew that which had been hidden within for perhaps centuries.

"Impossible!" she breathed, cradling it gently in her arms as if it was a fragile baby, though, in a way, it could be seen as such, she supposed.

A dragon egg! When was the last time anyone had seen anything like that? It wasn't anything like she had imagined it would look. It was an off-crimson color and it wasn't round, the egg came to a slight point.

"Hello, beautiful," she murmured, an excited squeal of laughter leaving her lips as she felt it throb against her hand. So it was still alive…that was good, that was very good… Her thoughts flew to Kilgharrah and relief swelled inside of her at the knowledge that he would no longer be the last of his kind. The same could not be said of the Dragonlords, but Merlin wasn't concerned of that at the present (though children were the least of her worries).

She disregarded the other artifacts in her haste to leave, she hands holding tightly to the egg as she crossed the lake back once more, clamoring onto Triton's back and heading back in the direction of the White Mountains. It took much less time to return than it had to leave, though she hardly noticed this, too euphoric at her discovery.

"Back so soon?" Kilgharrah rumbled as she entered into his cave once again. "There was once a time where you reviled my company."

"That time has long passed," she assured him, beaming brightly at him, "I come bearing a gift that I am sure you will appreciate."

He watched her with interest, but a light ignited in his gold eyes at the sight of the egg she held in her hands.

"Where did you find this?" he demanded, sniffing at it eagerly.

"Hidden," Merlin told him, "within stone on the Isle of the Blessed. It is a dragon egg, isn't it?"

"It is," Kilgharrah agreed in content. "I never thought I'd see another one again."

"How long was it there, do you think?" Merlin asked, setting it down gently before him, allowing him to inspect it closely. Merlin stood a moderate distance away, giving the dragon and the last dragon egg a moment.

"Difficult to say," Kilgharrah rumbled, "dragons can sleep for thousands of years inside their eggs."

"So, there's no telling when it will hatch?" Merlin asked, slightly crestfallen.

Kilgharrah straightened himself, making himself look much more impressive than usual. "Young dragons were called into the world by the Dragonlords," he told her. "Only they had the power to summon them from the egg. As the last Dragonlord, this solemn duty falls to you, Merlin."

Merlin floundered for a brief moment, opening and closing her mouth wordlessly before uttering a single word question. "How?"

"You must give the dragon a name," Kilgharrah said simply.

A name? That was all? But what name would be best suited for a crimson dragon? Merlin closed her eyes and thought deeply, breathing out sharply and speaking in a low guttural voice: "Telsnar."

The cracks that began to show on the shell were slow to appear, as though something sharp was cracking against the shell until finally it fell away to reveal what was possibly the most beautiful thing Merlin had ever seen. The dragon was so small, but it already had scales and spikes forming on its body and it yawned widely displaying its sharp pale teeth.

"I'll leave you two to your dragon-business," Merlin said quietly, ducking out of the cave before they could notice.

Telsnar…something told her it meant fierce protector.

* * *

"Lady Avalon!"

Merlin smiled down at the small druid girl who had raced to her side, smiling brightly up at her. Her smile, though, could not have been made discernible through the dark cloth that covered everything below her eyes which were now golden like her hair was pale blonde. What better way to hide in the kingdom of Camelot than with a disguise? But Merlin only put the effort into disguising her features when she left the island, which wasn't that often as she spent most of her time immersed in the study of magic that she had been deprived of for so long.

"Hello, Mavis," Merlin said, dropping a hand to run a few fingers through the child's curls, "how is your mother?"

The child's mother had been taken suddenly ill during one of Merlin's many visits to Iseldir's tribe and she had assisted him in her treatment. The older members of the group who knew her true identity were in awe, but the children knew her only as Avalon Myrrdin, the woman that made them laugh with her little magic tricks.

"She's feeling better," Mavis said, her eyes dancing with delight as Merlin conjured a few violet butterflies which fluttered around the child.

Merlin arched an eyebrow at the girl, coming to a swift stop, the water in the jug that positioned protectively at her back swished in its container. Then a smile formed on her lips. "Did you come all this way for a few butterflies?"

Mavis blushed prettily. "Um…"

Merlin laughed, so Mavis took that as a good sign. "Don't worry, I was quite fascinated by Iseldir when I was your age."

Mavis gazed at her in surprise. "Really?"

"He is a very strange man," Merlin conceded before kneeling down so that she was eye-level with the girl. She smiled, nodding towards where the druid camp must have been. "Now, run along, you, don't make your mum fret too badly."

Mavis gave an angelic laugh that befitted her appearance before giving her a swift wave and racing back towards the area that had magic so tightly woven around it. Merlin smiled, her eyes softening as she watched the girl go. Mavis reminded her a little of how she'd been at that age, carefree and awed by the magic others produced. But how things had changed since then. Merlin didn't bother to hide who she was, other than her appearance, this is, but that was for protective reasons (she had worked so hard to make Merlin the Maid-servant ordinary that the idea of Lady Avalon Myrrdin the High Priestess and Merlin being the same person was a laughable idea). She could practice her magic freely and had already grown so very much stronger and it had only been little more than half a year since she had left Camelot.

Merlin gave a sad sigh. She did miss it terribly, that she could not deny. She missed sneaking food out of the kitchen with Gwen and complaining to her about Arthur, she missed her uncle's calm presence, patiently explaining about herbs or magic or her destiny that she had all but abandoned, she missed Percival and the smile he would only show when she was in the room, she missed Leon and his annoying older brother attitude, she missed Gwaine and his nasty habit of out-drinking everyone in the pub, she missed Lancelot who trusted her despite his knowledge of what she was, she missed Elyan and his casual manner, and she missed Arthur,  _the git_ , who never listened to her, who's trust she had broken when she had used her magic in an effort to save his life.

By the time Merlin had finished these solemn ponderings, she was back on the Isle once more, deep in the bowels of the ruins down to the deepest part of the old castle. Merlin removed the jug of water she had taken from the Lake of Avalon, pouring it silently into a scrying fount that could have belonged to Nimueh before her.

The face reflected in the water was the young woman without any deception. Her hair was black, her eyes blue. Sometimes it was so easy to forget how she really looked; she didn't spend much time gazing into mirrors, apart from making sure her disguise was intact.

" **Diegoll cnytte, gewitte me yst, aliese hine, to Camelot,"**  she murmured, her eyes flashed gold briefly as she swirled a finger into the water, allowing images to appear in it.

Arthur's face was one of tension and annoyance, sitting at the head of a table as he listened to one of his knights describe a situation in the eastern part of Camelot. Gwen was standing respectfully against the wall but Merlin could see the worry lining her eyes, it was foreign to her, as Merlin was so used to seeing her with that bright smile of hers.

Merlin only allowed her one last glance to one of the knights and she smiled. Percival looked…like a knight. It had always been his dream, she had known, to become one of the Knights of Camelot, and at long last it had been realized.

Her heart ached. At least one of their dreams had come true, and Merlin suspected it would be many years before Camelot was allowed to practice the Old Religion once more.

* * *

Merlin hadn't known what to expect when she came across the ruin of death on one of her outings to meet Iseldir and his tribe, but the aftermath of a battle certainly wasn't at the top of her list. She could make out the crest of Camelot (though it was hard to mistake the bright red capes they wore) and well as what was unmistakably Cenred's crest, which she found odd, considering his kingdom had been decimated after his death and defeat by Camelot's hand.

For a moment, she saw nothing, but then she spotted movement. It was a small figure trying to move backwards away from the carnage, damage to his leg preventing him from moving any faster than the pace he was at.

Merlin's eyes widened as she recognized the boy. He was slightly older yes, his hair more curly and his eyes more shadowed, but it was definitely Mordred, the druid boy she had once helped save. Kilgharrah had been against it, but had told her afterwards only she could change his fate, it was a delicate balance that she held within her own hands. For good or evil, she alone could chose to fear him or show him compassion.

Every time Merlin chose compassion. It was a trait worth having for a physician and healer, as Gaius had often reminded her with a proud look in his eye.

"Be still, Mordred."

The boy froze, looking at her startled as she knelt by his side, inspecting the wound to his leg.

"How do you know my name?"

"I know many things," Merlin said simply, "we have met.  **Þurhhæle dolgbenn!"**

Mordred saw no difference in her eyes, which seemed to be a permanent golden color, but as she placed a hand on her leg, his pain lightened until nothing remained and all he could do was look upon his appendage in awe.

"Caught in the crossfire, were you?" Merlin asked in a mild voice, but her eyes twinkled a little and embarrassment flooded Mordred's cheeks. He could have easily dodged the arrow, that much he was certain of, but he had been so surprised at the sudden outbreak of the battle that he hadn't seen it coming.

"Yes."

"I'd get going, then," Merlin nodded towards the forest path, "it is a bad omen to remain amongst the dead, Mordred."

"Yes," Mordred repeated, "thank you."

He couldn't see her smile, but it certainly looked as though she was smiling as she waved him off, standing to search the grounds for more survivors. She recognized some of the knights (she noticed there were less dead than she'd anticipated, so it must have only been a small patrol), but the only one that she'd really known was Leon, and, thankfully, he was not among the dead…however, it seemed that there were two hearts still beating bearing the crest of Camelot.

Her eyes flared gold briefly as she whispered the same words that she had said only moments ago, and within seconds they had healed. She believed their names were Sir Vidor and Sir Cador (remarkably similar surnames, but that wasn't any of Merlin's business). They woke up startled, attempting –and failing– to point their blades at her, something she didn't approve of in the slightest.

"Is that really necessary?" she asked unimpressed. "Pointing a sword at the woman who just saved your life is hardly sporting."

Sir Vidor looked down at himself. "What sorcery is this? Our injuries…"

"Are healed," Merlin said shortly, making certain her hood was still obscuring her face as she stood, brushing the front of her dress off as she did so. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Sir Vidor and Sir Cador shared glances. It must have been sorcery that she had used, there was no denying that, but at the same time, she hadn't been using it for evil as sorceresses were often known for doing.

"And what is the name of the woman without whom we would be dead?" Sir Cador called after her as she weaved through the dead bodies.

"The Lady of Avalon, Sir Knight," she called back, "try not to overuse it."

It was a strange name, the pair had to admit, but what else could they do? They were healed and they needed to return to Prince Arthur's side and inform him of the events that had transpired, as well as the mysterious Lady of Avalon.

Merlin watched them leave silently before turning back to the task of carefully attempting to not disturb the broken bodies around her when she choked suddenly.

One of Cenred's former soldiers had taken her for the enemy in his nearly dead state and had rammed a spearhead into her side. Pain and red bloomed at her side and anger swelled within her, a flash of gold cracking his head harshly against the trunk of a nearby tree as she struggled to pull the spear tip from her skin as a pair of hands reached around to assist her.

"Help me to the lake," she gasped as Iseldir pulled her arm over his shoulders, guiding her forward, the poison of the spearhead gnawing at her skin. All she needed was some time to set it right and she'd be fine… _after all,_  she thought somberly,  _Emrys was an immortal being._


	4. Reunion of Friends

" _You aren't holding it right, here—"_

_Merlin could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as Percival stepped behind her, his larger hands (larger everything, really, it couldn't be denied) covering hers as he carefully straightened her grip on the sword._

_Merlin gulped nervously, trying not to let her embarrassment show. "Er, right, thanks…"_

_Percival's soft laughter rang in her ears as she brought the blade into a swift downwards slice._

Merlin rested her back against a tree, breathing in and out shallowly. Triton whinnied softly, swishing his tail in the wind and jerking his head towards her.

"I'm fine, Triton," Merlin murmured, a hand pressing into her side where she had been wounded only the previous day. It had not yet healed and had been throbbing so bad that she was forced to come to a halt briefly on her trek up the White Mountains. She exhaled slowly, the gust of air causing the cloth over her mouth to ripple. "I'll be…fine…"

Merlin pressed a hand to her forehead, sighing softly. The poison had sapped her of her energy, but thanks to Iseldir, she was on the mend. She chuckled to herself. What a High Priestess she was, to be put out of commission for a number of hours by a simple poison. But she had grown very much in the past few months, something she was glad of every day.

"Foolish," Merlin grumbled to herself, "that's what I am." Still, even she could not refuse a direct summons by the Disir.

The Disir was the highest, oldest, and by far the most sacred Court of the Old Religion. It could be argued that they were the only court left. They were the mouthpiece of the Triple Goddess from whom the Old Religion had spurned.

" _The Disir call you before them, Great Emrys,"_  the sorcerer had said, kneeling before her as if she had royal blood running through her veins.

At least they had not given her a Runemark, Merlin conceded as she mounted Triton once more, sending only a small flare of pain up her hip as they rode out once more. Merlin took a path that was separate to the one she took when she visited Kilgharrah and the still-growing Telsnar. Telsnar grew faster than she had anticipated, though Merlin suspected that might have had something to do with the tiny fact that he was a dragon, quite unlike how humans grew.

It wasn't much longer before Merlin dismounted a second time, this time a short ways away from a cave that the sorcerer Osgar (the older man who had been sent by the Disir to give the summons to Merlin) had instructed her to approach, the one that held the Disir.

As of now, the Disir consisted of three women named Niede, Atorloppe, and Befelen, and though their magic was great, Kilgharrah had informed her that even their might could not compare to that of Emrys. This had made Merlin turn brighter than a cherry.

She didn't much think of herself as that great legend that Druids were so familiar with.

The cave was dark, which was to be expected, and Merlin heard their voices speaking as one before she actually saw them.

"Come, Emrys," they said.

The way they spoke at the same time and with the same tone sent a shiver down her spine, but she approached, as slowly as she could possibly risk.

They were hooded and wearing dark cloaks (though Merlin couldn't really judge, considering how she was garbed herself), standing in a triangle formation.

"What does the Disir want with me?" Merlin called to them, keeping an appropriate distance away while keeping a tempered hand on the hilt of her re-forged blade.

"We only speak the words of the Triple Goddess," the one on the left said.

"We interpret her will," said the one on the right.

"And we deal judgment upon those that even the gods have blessed," the one at the center said.

Merlin whitened under her hood and cloth, something she doubted was noticeable, and she could feel her heart racing in her chest.

"Yet deal judgment upon you, we will not," the first said.

"The Triple Goddess is pleased by your efforts to revive the Old Religion," the second said.

"Camelot's future lies upon your shoulders," the third said, "it rests with your ability to convince the Once and Future King of the truth of magic."

"She is honored by your sacrifice," they said as one, "but return to your destiny, you must. Arthur Pendragon will need his greatest advisor at his side for what is to come."

Merlin's grip on her sword hilt tightened and her teeth clenched slightly. "Arthur will not accept me back," she remarked coolly, "not after he saw what I did, what I was…to him, I am a lying, dangerous sorceress who should be burned at the stake."

The one at the center raised her head slightly, her dark eyes piercing Merlin's briefly. "Convince him," she said simply.

Merlin opened and closed her mouth wordlessly. "But I don't know how to do that!" she burst out, slightly stunned at the loudness of her voice in the silence of the cave.

"You will find a way," the first spoke with surety.

"The Once and Future King will listen, regardless from whom the counsel is given," the second added.

Merlin stared at them for a moment longer, but she could not bring herself to agree, not in the slightest. How could she convince a man who had long been convinced of the evil of magic? Magic had taken his mother from him. Magic had ruined his sister. Magic was the reason for so much tragedy in his family. Asking her to change his mind was an impossible feat. She should give up before even trying, though that was hardly like her…when had she ever given up on something?

Merlin could only shake her head as she turned away , moving slowly towards the opening of the cave and out to where Triton awaited her.

* * *

" _What is it?" Percival asked, holding the stone before his eyes, examining it intently. It was smooth with etchings of symbols he did not recognize._

_Merlin dug the heel of her boot into the ground, a faint blush adorning her fair cheeks. "It's nothing special, just a Rune-stone."_

_He glanced at her, his lips twitching. "Nothing special?"_

_Merlin scowled at him, her lower lip jutting out slightly as she did so, filling Percival with the desire to take her in his arms and kiss her, and it was not the first time that week that he had felt that way. "The Runes are for protection," she said finally, huffing in annoyance, "it's not very powerful, but it will keep you safe from ailments, if nothing else."_

" _If nothing else?" Percival asked, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear. He enjoyed how her cheeks flushed with a color much darker than before. She opened her mouth to speak but found the words robbed of her lips. Merlin hardly breathed as he cradled her chin in his hand. "Is it not customary to send off men with a kiss of farewell?"_

_She breathed in sharply, her eyes fluttering as she looked up at him, because he was so much taller than she. "Are you asking me to kiss you?" she asked breathlessly, her hands limp at her sides._

" _Would that be too much to ask?" Percival murmured._

" _To some," Merlin whispered, her lips twisting upwards and into that smile he was so fond of, "but I am different matter."_

" _Indeed you are," he agreed. He had never met a girl or a woman quite like the Healer of Ealdor. He did not wait for her, leaning down to catch her lips with his, swallowing her startled gasp of surprise before she melted into him as if her bones had ceased to exist in that moment._

" _I will keep it on me until we meet again," he promised once they parted, referring to the Rune-stone._

_Merlin, though light-headed from his kiss, smiled tenderly, kissing the stone before curling his fingers around it. "And will we meet again, do you suppose?"_

" _We will," he said with assurance. "Until we meet again…Lady Merlin."_

_Her cheeks turned the color of cherries as he kissed her knuckles as if she was of nobility before turning his back on her and striding out into the wilderness._

* * *

Gwaine liked to think that he knew Merlin the best. He knew it wasn't right to, given how she saw Arthur the most, but it was what he liked to think. He remembered the first time they met so clearly in his mind. She was such a strange girl, he had remembered thinking. No female he had ever known would ever contend to wear the masculine clothes that she had donned, and he had never seen one carry a sword like the one on her hip. Nor would they speak so out of turn.

That was one of the best things about Merlin, though, she was so rough around the edges. Wild and tempered, fierce and calm, wise and foolish.

He had insisted on leading a search party for her, but it had been useless and pointless. The witch was obviously very good at hiding her tracks, and it was like Percival had said, if she didn't want to be found, they wouldn't find her.

That didn't stop him from being irrationally (or perhaps not quite so irrationally) angry when the search for her was called off and Gwaine was ordered to return to Camelot. After all, it wasn't as if he could simply search for days on end, or even months, for a servant girl. Or worse, a servant girl who could use magic.

He was beyond grateful when Arthur had ordered all of them to keep their silence on the matter, but in his mind, it didn't change anything about how her thought about her. She was a sorceress, yes, but she had stuck by Arthur's side all this time, despite knowing what he thought of her kind. That showed Gwaine that she had more guts than anyone he had ever met, including Arthur.

She had to have known that Arthur wouldn't prosecute her…or did she? Merlin was the type to do anything on a whim and she had no doubt had many conversations with Arthur on the subject of magic. Gwaine could imagine her heartbroken look and her self-disgust at not being able to change Arthur's opinion on her kind, but he knew without any reservations that she would never have used her magic to sway him. She would have viewed that the lowest thing she could possibly do, besides, she was a healer; she fixed people, she didn't change them, as she had so often said.

But it was because of Merlin, he had to reluctantly admit to himself, that they were in this mess. And by ' _they'_ , he meant the knights and Arthur, and by  _'mess'_  he meant a number of bandits that had surrounded them, rendering them weaponless.

"Start with the biggest one," the leader of the thieves snarled to his men, nodding towards the greatest threat amongst the knights. There was no arguing of that fact, Gwaine could say that with certainty. He had once ended on the opposite end of Percival's bare fists, and it wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat.

One of the men had hardly taken a step forward when he was thrown suddenly back, landing a few feet away.

"I would not do that if I were you," a voice commented and every head turned to look upon the speaker. It was a woman, quite obviously, too, her cloak did little to hide this fact, mounted on a horse that even Elyan was certain looked familiar.

"Sire," Leon murmured, "her crest."

The knights' eyes fastened momentarily upon the dragon encircling the white tower, before being drawn to the only part of her face that could be seen, her glowing golden eyes.

"Sorceress," Arthur breathed. He recognized her quite easily as the one who had placed the poultice under his pillow, the one that had convinced his father that Gwen was enchanting him. Even when pressed she had given no name.

Her luminescent eyes cast over him for a brief moment and the intensity of her stare made him restrain from taking a step back.

"Who're you?" the head bandit demanded.

"I have many titles and many names," the woman said coolly. "Here, I am known as Avalon Myrrdin, High Priestess of the Triple Goddess, the last of the Dragonlords." She raised a hand and spread her fingers, saying only a few words.  **"Swefe nu!"**

The knights and Arthur watched in astonishment as one by one the bandits collapsed into a deep slumber.

"You should return to Camelot, Arthur Pendragon," the woman said, drawing the attention of the prince, "you do not belong here."

"These lands belong to Camelot," Arthur was quick to disagree.

She chuckled. "The arrogance…farewell…" She turned her horse and sped off.

Of course, when did that ever stop Arthur and his knights? But there was the small problem with getting across the fog-covered lake to the mysterious island the Lady of Avalon had made for. Arthur was more startled than anything when the horse she was riding upon raced across the surface of the lake as though it was solid (which it certainly wasn't!). Getting to the island took more time than Arthur liked so once there, he order his knights to fan out and search the structure for her.

A whisper on the air directed him towards the descending stairs. They went down quite a bit before leveling off, but once he had entered into the only room there, a slate of rock slid down beside him. Arthur swore, pushing his weight against the stone, but it would not budge.

"It's enchanted," a voice behind him commented, "not even if you strained all the muscles in your body could you move that rock."

He turned swiftly, withdrawing his sword in a heartbeat and aiming it at the woman from before, a white staff clutched in her free hand. "What do you want?"

"I believe the question should be…what do you want?" she responded easily, using a finger to turn the blade away from her. "And I'm afraid that if you point that at me again, I will turn it into a bouquet."

Arthur stared at her, struck by her gall to use magic on his sword.

"What is it you want, Arthur Pendragon?" she asked coldly through the cloth over her mouth. "You so arrogantly have trampled onto the sacred land of the Triple Goddess, so what is it that is so important that you have sought me out?"

"I'm…I'm looking for someone," he finally said, "a young woman with dark hair, blue eyes, one known for her healing skills."

"You do not appear to be ill," Avalon noticed.

"She's my servant," Arthur said shortly.

"You seem to be expending a lot of energy for this servant…"

"Good servants are hard to come by," Arthur said, giving a slight smile, but it vanished quickly. "Her name is Merlin. Would you know anything about her?"

"Possibly," Avalon said evasively, moving away to stand before her scrying fount, her fingers dancing across the surface of the water. "Are you here because you wish her dead, or…?"

"No, it's nothing like that!" Arthur opened his mouth, before thinking carefully. "When Merlin left…I was convinced that magic was evil, but now…I'm not so sure."

"Oh?" The response seemed to surprise her. "And if she told you all that she had done to save you from certain death, Arthur Pendragon, would you listen without judgment?"

Her golden eyes pierced him, reminding him of someone else for not the first time since he had seen them.

"I would make a sincere attempt," he said in a solemn manner. This response seemed to please her.

"Come, join me," Avalon invited him closer to the fount.

"What will I see?" Arthur asked, instantly suspicious.

"Truth." Her eyes held no lies. "When Uther began the Great Purge, he caused an imbalance with the natural forces."

"What does that mean?" Arthur asked.

"To give a life, one must be taken." She canted her head slightly. "By taking so many lives, the Old Religion was thrown out of balance. The only way it could be compromised was in the birth of a child, one born of magic."

"That isn't…that isn't possible," Arthur was quick to disagree. "Magic is a learned ability!"

"For some." Avalon waved her hand and Arthur couldn't resist looking to the image. It was of a small girl, her blue eyes bright in the sunlight and her dark curls bouncing with every movement.

"Don't get too far ahead, Merlin!" a woman's voice called from behind.

Merlin giggled, her eyes flashing gold, making flowers sprout in the earth. She clapped her hands in delight.

He looked up as Avalon removed the cloth from her mouth and the hood from her head.

"Avalon Myrrdin was the name I chose," she said in a very familiar voice as she canceled her disguise spell, "when I left Camelot behind."

"Merlin!"

Merlin crossed her arms, an irritated frown forming onto her lips. "I didn't choose magic, Arthur, it chose me, so if that's why you're here, then I suggest you leave." Her blue orbs flashed gold and the stone that had barred his way had melted away.

Arthur stared at her, not quite able to comprehend her. It was so difficult to imagine her as a great sorceress, seeing as she had never displayed the ability before, but who would in the face of what would happen to them in Camelot?

"Gwen misses you," he blurted out, "and so does Gaius."

She glared at him. "I know." She gestured to the fount. "I've been keeping an eye on you lot, since you're incapable of doing the job properly yourselves."

Now she was sounding more like her snarky self.

"I meant what I said," he added, "I'm willing to listen."

"And what if you don't like what you hear?" she asked of him. "What then?"

"If you're asking if I'll be executing you anytime soon, the answer's no."

Merlin rolled her eyes, but Arthur could see her shoulders sagging slightly in relief until the sound of a yell of "DRAGON!" followed by a mighty roar interrupted them.

Merlin sighed. "That'll be Gwaine walking into Telsnar, come on."

Arthur noticed her movements were slightly sluggish and favoring one side as she made her way up the stone steps, followed closely by Arthur.

"Where in the name of the gods did you pick up a dragon?" he demanded.

"For a dragon egg, you clotpole," she snapped. "That is generally how dragons come into being."

"You're really angry, aren't you?" Arthur asked.

"How good of you to notice," she snarled, "hurry up before one of your knights spears anyone important."

* * *

" **O Drakon!"**  A voice bellowed from behind Gwaine as he struck at the crimson beast which only served to anger it, spewing flames at him, burning through his leg.  **"Non didlkai! Kari miss, epsipass imalla krat! Katostar abore ceriss. Katicur! Me ta sentende divoless! Kar krisass!"**

The dragon batted its wings, rising in the air until it was nothing but a red speck in the slowly darkening sky.

"Sir Gwaine!" the voice from before barked, a very familiar voice that had Gwaine grinning. "You fool! Oh, is that a dragon? Why don't we poke it and see if it gets mad?" she mocked.

Merlin was leaning over him, her dark curls spilling over her shoulders and her eyes as dark blue as he remembered. "Got anything to say for yourself?" she demanded in a cool voice.

Gwaine's grin widened. "I always get the short stick, don't I? Pick on Percival."

Her smile turned sardonic as she glanced to where her love was, sprinting over with the others. "I don't think that would be fair," she said, "he's rather massive."

Gwaine laughed but it faded into pained hisses.

"Serves you right," Merlin said, leaning back and crossing her arms in affront, but the expression faded quickly as she briefly abandoned Gwaine (who gave a huff of amusement when he saw why). Her eyes were a blazing azure as she threw her arms over Percival's shoulders, clinging tightly to the chainmail.

It seemed like so much time had passed before they parted, but when they did, Merlin was smiling far brighter than she had in months.

"Hello," she said quietly, the tips of her toes just brushing the grass.

"Hello," he said, his voice as low as usual, sending shivers down her spine. "You are as beautiful as ever, Merlin."

Merlin's face flushed crimson at the compliment, but that was hardly out of the norm; Percival had that effect on her and she wasn't very used to people appreciating her beauty, as it were. She wasn't completely unprepared when he bent forward, his lips meeting hers.

She hardly heard the other knights joining them or Arthur's annoyed "Really?" or even Gwaine's laughter as they parted once more.

"Everyone saw that," she whispered, her embarrassment causing her already bright flush to deepen.

"They did," Percival agreed, eyeing the amused knights as he removed his arms from around her and she him, only leaving one hand at the small of her back. Merlin rolled her eyes up to the sky, mouthing wordlessly, before smiling sheepishly at them.

"Erm, hello," she said awkwardly before Lancelot embraced her.

"I'm glad you're alright," he told her, his concern making her smile.

"'Course I've been alright," she said dismissively, "you know me, I keep out of trouble."

Lancelot wasn't the only to laugh as Elyan hugged her, closely followed by Leon, whose eye's swept over her as if searching for any form of injury, before noticing the stain at her side.

"You've been stabbed."

"Thank you, I really couldn't tell," Merlin said in disdain, cupping a hand over her wound.  **"Þurhhæle dolgbenn!"**

Her eyes flashed gold and once she had removed her hand, the wound had healed over and the stain had vanished.

"A little help here," Gwaine said from behind them, his face in a tight grimace.

Annoyance flickered across Merlin's face as she directed them towards a circle of rocks that held the remnants of ash from a fire.

"Of all the foolish-!" she muttered to herself, tossing logs into the center of the stones, her eyes glowing gold, causing the fire to flame up suddenly into existence.

Gwaine chuckled awkwardly as the knights exchanged glances, not quite so used to seeing her rather blatant use of magic (or at all). "Dragons are startling, in my defense."

Merlin rolled her eyes. "The first I met didn't attack me because I didn't raise such an alarm." She smacked him alongside the head, earning an  _"Ow!"_  as she sat down beside him, pulling his burned leg towards her.

Percival chuckled at his friend's pained noise from her smack, and he wasn't the only one.

"Some things haven't changed," Leon noticed.

"And some things never will," she retorted, pulling the charred remains of his pant-leg apart to see the burn.

Gwaine made a small noise of pain.

"Don't be such a baby," she said, "it's hardly more than a flesh wound."

Her eyes glowed gold once more and Elyan and Lancelot had to duck as a bag came hurtling through the air to land neatly in her hands. Several pairs of eyes flickered to Arthur, who could only grit his teeth at the display, reserving his judgment.

" _Ouch!_  What're you—?" Gwaine complained, his body jolting as Merlin dribbled a yellow colored substance onto the wound.

"Lavender oil, helps with burns," Merlin said shortly, holding a bandage to his leg, tying it tightly to his leg. "Try not to move that, will you?"

"No complaints here," Gwaine muttered, grabbing her wrist as she stood. "Thanks…for everything."

Merlin's lips twitched slightly. "What is it that you always said? Wrong place, wrong time, wrong drink?"

Gwaine laughed. "Wait, you haven't got any ale here, do you?"

Merlin rolled her eyes. "I don't drink much other than wine, Gwaine, you know that."

"Ah," Gwaine said sadly, "pity."

"You're lucky to be alive," Merlin added, standing suddenly, "Telsnar is young, he has not yet learned restraint…you might have been killed if I didn't step in."

"Earlier you said you were the last of the Dragonlords," Elyan piped up, "what does that mean?"

"It means she's the only one who can control them," Leon answered for her, eyeing his friend strangely, "the last Dragonlord was a man, though, and he died—"

"Balinor was my father," Merlin said shortly, "he died in my arms."

Arthur pressed his hand over his eyes. What he'd said to her  _("No man is worth your tears")_  seemed so heartless now, considering who he truly was to her.

Merlin moved around the fire to sit beside Percival, her legs curling to her side as she dug her fingers into the grass.

"You wanted the truth, Arthur," she said after a moment of silence that was only pierced by the cry of a wyvern in the distance, "I'm afraid it's quite a long tale."

"We've got the time," Arthur said shortly, glancing out into the midday sunlight.

"You may not like what you hear," Merlin responded, smoothing her cloak around her to protect her from the cold as Percival took her hand. "I've done things I'm not proud of, but I can promise you that I have never sought to intentionally harm anyone, unless it was unavoidable."

Elyan's eyebrows screwed together in confusion, but Lancelot's held understanding. Gwaine didn't see how anyone could take Merlin as evil, it wasn't really her thing, and Leon, while familiar with her angry rants, thought the same. Percival's fingers tightened over hers and she restrained herself from kissing his cheek.

"The truth is always better," Arthur said.

The flames flickered ominously as Merlin began to speak.

"Like I said before, I was born with magic," she said, "I was taught very early on that my gifts were something to hide, especially in this world where magic is feared and hated. I…" Her face faltered slightly. "I didn't really have much control over it to begin with, I was very prone to slip ups, that's how Percival found out." Merlin cast him a slightly amused expression. "Thankfully, he wasn't prejudiced like others were."

A not-so-subtle hint to the Pendragons.

"My mother was overly cautious about me," Merlin admitted a little reluctantly, "she thought the best decision would be to send me to my uncle Gaius…"

Merlin doubted there were enough hours in the day to tell her tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the last chapter before the series of flashbacks that will cover the events of series 1-3 as well as some stuff in between, so it'll be awhile before Arthur, the knights, and Merlin return to Camelot.


	5. Arrival at Camelot

Merlin had gained enough stares on her trek from Ealdor to Camelot, but she did her best to ignore them. She was already in a terrible mood from the walk and from the sudden execution of a sorcerer; in short, she was quite sick to her stomach. So she didn't care if she was the only woman in the crows garbed in male's clothes with a sword strapped to her hip. Apart from that, she was nothing special; dark hair, blue eyes, and skin as pale as the moon (Will's words, not hers).

"Are you lost, miss?"

Merlin did a double take at the knight who had asked her the question. His eyes were light and his hair curly. Merlin reddened; she must look awful.

"Oh, it's just Merlin," she said quickly, waving her hands in front of her face quickly, "I'm looking for my uncle, Gaius, he's the Court Physician?" Her words sounded more like a question than anything else.

"Not to worry," the knight said kindly, gesturing to the opening behind him which was guarded on either side by soldiers wearing the Pendragon crest, "through there, follow the stairs and you'll come across a door at the end of the hall."

"Thank you, Sir…?" Merlin frowned at him.

"Leon, at your service," he said politely.

"Thank you, Sir Leon," Merlin said, bobbing her head in respect before making to duck around him and through the opening, only to pause as he called to her briefly.

"Just one question—"

"One?" Merlin said in a slightly griping voice, her shoulders falling slightly, making the knight smile.

"Just a little confused about the clothes," Leon said gesturing to her whole body.

Merlin looked down at herself and sighed. She was sure that, as her mother always said, she would look much nicer in a dress, but it wasn't what she preferred. She wore a simple blue tunic that wasn't a color that would stand out in a crowd, her greaves were a darker color, the jacket was a softer brown, the boots sturdy and well worn, and to top it off, she wore a red neckerchief at her throat.

"Dresses are too…taxing," she said finally before turning on her heel and striding through, her face flushing at his light-hearted laughter at the thought of a woman finding a dress  _taxing_ , but she could see he didn't mean it to be malicious (this knight seemed to be honestly amused by the thought).

She followed the steps, breathing a sigh of relief at the sign on the wall of COURT PHYSICIAN that indicated she was moving in the right direction. She seemed to follow a series of long hallways before she finally came across the room she was looking for.

Merlin creaked the door open quietly, with a small question of "Gaius?" that was not answered. She was not even able to help herself from gazing in awe of the room. There were herbs strung, drying in the windows, tinctures bubbling softly over flames on the table, an assortment of bottles were spread about, with just as much books lying around. The disorder didn't really surprise her. Merlin and her mother's house looked much the same, especially with the herbs in disarray.

A soft mumbling drew her attention quickly to the man that must have been Gaius. Merlin frowned up at the man who was clearly getting on in his years, judging by his head of pure white. So this was her mother's brother…he was a decade older than her mother at least. Yet he'd never bothered to visit his sister or his niece in Ealdor.

"Do not judge your uncle too harshly," her mother had said when she was packing to leave, "the Court Physician does not get much free time, and he isn't as young as he used to be."

"Gaius?" Merlin said his name once more, raising her voice slightly.

This was clearly the wrong thing to do, as her voice startled him so badly the wooden planks of the railing behind him broke and he cried out as he fell through.

Instinctively, Merlin reached out a hand, her eyes flashing an all-too-familiar gold, slowing time in a way no other human could, sending the small bed that lay only feet away under him smoothly with another flash of her eyes. Time returned to normal just as Gaius hit the mattress, gasping in surprise and pushing aside the bits of the wooden railing that had fallen on him.

He struggled to stand, gazing around in shock and surprise. "What did you just do?" he demanded, shocked.

"Lucky that bed was there," Merlin said, forcing her voice to remain calm.

His lips twitched in barest amusement. "I know where that bed was and it wasn't here. How is it that you know magic?"

"W-I don't," Merlin said quickly, stumbling slightly over her words. "Well, Iseldir taught me a few healing spells, but that's it."

"Iseldir?" Gaius asked, the name unfamiliar to him.

"He's a Druid Chieftain," Merlin said, tightening her grip on the straps of her pack. "He's practically my godfather, that's what Mum says."

"He taught you healing spells?" Gaius said rather dubiously.

"Yes…" Merlin said slowly, not quite understanding.

"Then how did you move that bed?" he demanded.

"Oh, that just sort of happens," Merlin said with a shrug.

"That's not possible!" Gaius disagreed. "You had to have been taught!"

"No, I really haven't," Merlin said before correcting herself, "apart from the healing stuff, but I only learned that after I started having these outbursts."

"Are you lying to me?"

Merlin scowled slightly at the older man. "I was born with magic."

"That's impossible!" Gaius eyed her shrewdly for a moment. "Who are you?"

"I'm Merlin…" she said slowly, searching her pocket for her mother's letter.

"Oh!" Gaius' eyes widened in surprise. "Hunith's daughter?"

She handed over the parchment. "That's right."

"But you're not meant to be here until Wednesday!" Gaius told her.

"Er…It is Wednesday," Merlin mentioned in a dry voice.

"Oh…" A realization seemed to dawn upon him. "Well, you'll want to put your bag in there," he added, trying and failing to cover his fumble as he gestured to a small room at the back. "And Merlin?"

Merlin turned back and Gaius saw just how much she looked like her mother.

"Thank you."

A pale flush spread across her cheeks and she turned away quickly, placing her things in the small room without so much as a word.

* * *

 _Merlin…_ a deep voice coaxed her.  _Merlin…_

Merlin's eyes flashed open suddenly and she sat up clutching her flimsy blanket to her chest as she glanced around, looking for the source of the voice, but there was no one there. Merlin sighed, running a hand through her dark hair that was now tangled from sleep.

"What—?" she blinked blearily in complete confusion as to where she was before realizing she was in Camelot. "Oh…right…" Merlin could feel her homesickness growing. She was so used to her mother being a constant presence in her life, a comforting presence especially after Percival had left, but that had been two years ago. Letters were a form of infrequent assurances and were rather short considering how little Percival generally spoke.

She raked her fingers through her hair until it was clear of the tangles, permitting her to tie it into a thick plait down her back before changing into a fresh set of clothes and looking into the bowl of water that she had used to splash her face, her reflection rippling in it.

She didn't see what Percival had seen. Her eyes were too dark a blue and she looked like she had never been out in the sun at any point in her short life. She pursed her lips, glancing down at herself again. Her clothes were practical, she told herself countless times, she didn't need to look as pretty as other girls did.

Merlin tied a thin black sash around her waist, her red neckerchief to her throat, and her jacket over her shoulders before heading down the stairs.

"Ah, awake, are you?"

She blinked thickly at Gaius, but he was smiling kindly at her. "Sorry," she apologized, "but did you want me up sooner?"

He just waved her over, so she took that to be a 'no'. She took her seat, eyeing the bowl of porridge with distaste before Gaius callously knocked over a bucket of water. Before Merlin could stop herself, her eyes had flashed gold and she stood, her hand aimed towards the bucket.

It froze in midair, the droplets of the water as well as the bucket, barely giving her enough time to grab it before it fell.

"How did you do that?" Gaius queried as time began once more and a bit of the water sloshed onto the ground.

Merlin replaced the bucket with a bit of a scowl. "I told you," she said, "it just sort of happens sometimes."

"You didn't incant a spell in your mind?" Gaius asked a bit suspiciously.

 _"No!"_  Merlin said heatedly. "I don't know that many spells, especially not ones that can freeze time."

"But it can't just happen!" Gaius disagreed and Merlin's scowl darkened as she sat back down.

"Thank you, I'd rather gathered that for myself."

Gaius blinked a few times. She sounded so much like her father.

"I read your mother's letter," he added.

"Good for you."

"Before you were born…" Gaius said, slumping onto the bench opposite her, "your mother asked that I not come to Ealdor."

Merlin's spoon stilled in her porridge.

"Your mother is very protective of you," Gaius told her, "and I'm sorry I never had the opportunity to meet you before now."

Merlin bit the inside of her cheek, ducking her head slightly as she swallowed the watery porridge.

"Sorry," she muttered, "I thought you and Mum had a falling out."

"Nothing of the sort," Gaius promised her, "I'm very fond of your mother, and I always will be…now, eventually you'll need to find some paid work—"

"I thought the whole reason for me coming here was to become your apprentice," Merlin said in complete befuddlement.

"Ah, but apprentices are not paid," Gaius said wisely and Merlin grumbled a little as he placed a small pouch on the table and a bottle of yellow liquid. "Hollyhocks and feverfew for Lady Percival—"

"For headaches," Merlin said, her grip on her spoon tightening at the name Percival.

"Very good," Gaius said with a smile, "we'll make a true physician out of you yet. "

Merlin's lips twitched.

"And this," he added, tapping the cork that stoppered the bottle with one finger, "is for Sir Olwin. He's as blind as a weevil, so warn him not to take it all at once."

"Right," Merlin said, swallowing her water, her grin widening slightly as he placed a plate of sandwiches in front of her. "Thanks."

"Off you go," Gaius said, motioning her towards the door. She collected the pouch and bottle in one hand, grabbing a sandwich half with the other.

"And Merlin!" he called to her before she could leave. She turned back to meet his eyes. "I need hardly tell you that the practice of any form of enchantments will get you killed."

"Of course not," Merlin said dryly, rolling her eyes as she did so.

"Try to keep out of trouble," he added before she closed the door. Hunith had mentioned in her letter that Merlin was often at odds with the villagers from Ealdor.

_My daughter's love for the earth and the herbs that grow here have made her very withdrawn. No one can complain about her because she heals them when they are injured, but I have seen the way they look at her, as if she could never belong. It is because of this that I believe she finds solace in the company of the druids when they pass by. My daughter has a quick wit and a sharp tongue, dear Gaius, she doesn't realize just how much trouble it can get her into…_

It was only after she left that she realized she had no idea where these people lived. Where was that helpful knight from earlier?

* * *

Guinevere beat a curtain out of the main window, her eyes drawn to the scene below. She gave a sad sigh. In all the time that she had attended to Lady Morgana she had hoped that perhaps Arthur would lose his arrogance, but no such luck.

She pitied Morris who had been forced into being the moving target today for Arthur and a few of the younger knights' amusement.

But then something happened that she did not expect; someone stepped in.

Gwen almost mistook her for a man, wearing a male's tunic and trousers, but her dark plait down her back and feminine shape told a different story.

The girl crossed her arms, her expression sour. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

 _"Ooh!"_  a few of the knights chortled and Gwen strained to hear the words said from where she was, but she needn't have worried, the courtyard had very good acoustics.

"Like you?" Arthur smirked, looking her up and down.

The dark-haired girl didn't appear to appreciate his tone.

"Oh, please," she said coolly, "it wouldn't take much for me to knock you on your ass, seeing as that's all you are, you know, an  _ass."_

Gwen muffled her chuckles, eager to hear what happened next as the girl and Arthur were nearly nose to nose.

"Do not think you can speak to me in such a way—"

"I speak how I like," she interrupted.

"Just because you dress like a man and have a sword doesn't make you anything more than a little girl playing dress up," Arthur said in scorn.

"Oh, really?" She slammed an arm across his chest, using her leg to knock one of his up and the force of her arm to knock him to the ground. "Yes, I can see I'm just a little girl playing dress up," she said with a bit of laughter, vanishing into the crowd before Arthur could call for her to be thrown into the dungeons.

Gwen laughed out loud.

"What is it, Gwen?" Morgana called to her maidservant from where she was sitting at the desk, a parchment before her, her quill poised.

"It's nothing, my lady," Gwen said quickly, "I apologize if I made a disturbance."

"It's alright," Morgana said with a kindly smile, "what was it that made you laugh?"

"Oh, a scene upon the square, my lady," Gwen said, gesturing to the window, "someone stood up to Arthur."

"Did they?" Morgana's arching eyebrows raised and her red painted lips curled upwards. "Good…what happened to the poor lad?"

"That's what was so funny," Gwen said, smiling with humor, "it was a  _woman."_

Morgana stopped and stared at her, her eyes stunned. "A woman? You are certain?"

"Quite certain, my lady," Gwen agreed with surety. "She knocked him to the ground with just an arm and a leg."

"Even more impressive," Morgana said with a laugh of her own, "who is this mysterious woman? I would very much like to meet her."

"I'm certain the whole of Camelot will want to meet her," Gwen informed her in an almost dry manner.

As it happened, Gwen met the girl in question later that day when she was out at the market which was subsequently where the woman happened to be, examining some apples.

Gwen thought she could be mistaken for Morgana from a distance if she wore a dress and let down her hair.

Her eyes were a dark impossible blue that Gwen had never seen before on someone, her midnight fringe not quite covering her equally dark eyebrows. She could never be mistaken for a man, that much was true.

"Um, hello," Gwen said, smiling slightly as she paid for her apples, glancing to her in surprise.

"Hello," the girl said in a bit of confusion.

"I'm Guinevere, but most people call me Gwen," she introduced herself. "I'm the Lady Morgana's maid."

"Ah." She nodded politely, extending her hand to the maid's. "I'm Merlin."

Gwen shook it as Merlin's smile turned sheepish. "I'm kind of new around here…I guess you saw what happened earlier, then?"

Gwen nodded, her grin widening as she released her hold on the pale girl's fingers. "It was really brave, what you did," she said, "standing up to Arthur."

Merlin shrugged as if it was nothing. "Well, I'm not known for my restraint," she admitted unblushingly. "I can't really resist when people think they're superior to others."

"Arthur's a bully," Gwen agreed, "and everyone thought you were a real hero."

"I'm sure they did," Merlin said, laughing slightly, "I'm sure they also enjoyed me dropping him to the ground."

Gwen smothered her giggles behind her hand. "Yes, that was quite impressive," she said, bobbing her head with agreement, "however did you manage it?"

"I've met bigger men," Merlin said unconcerned, "I had a patient once who paid me in self-defense lessons." She patted the hilt of the blade at her side in remembrance.

"Patient?" Gwen asked.

"Oh, I'm Gaius' apprentice-and-ward," Merlin explained, "I'm a Physician-in-Training, I suppose."

Gwen nodded in understanding. "You must know a lot about herbs, then."

"Enough to knock someone out or kill them," Merlin shrugged again. "Depending on what I like."

Gwen laughed out loud. Merlin really wasn't afraid of speaking her mind, was she? It was quite refreshing to talk to someone like that. Even if Morgana viewed her opinion highly, she would never dare to be as bold as Merlin had been with the prince earlier that day. But Gwen had a feeling that she and Merlin were going to be very good friends.

Because who didn't want a girl who could knock a pompous prince on his bum for a friend?

* * *

"I hear there was some excitement in the Court Square today," Gaius mentioned as he spooned her some broth.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," Merlin said stoutly, taking the bowl from him and sipping the soup.

"Indeed." Gaius looked at her as though he wasn't sure whether to scold her or laugh, but it seemed scolding won through. "Your mother asked me to look after you," he told her.

"She worries too much," Merlin grumbled into her gulp of water.

"What did she say to you," he asked her, "about your gifts?"

Merlin scraped at the bottom of the bowl. "She doesn't say much about it, Iseldir's the one who taught me more about what I was…but she always tells me I'm special."

"You are special," Gaius had to agree, his voice telling her he completely agreed with what he was saying, "the likes of which I've never seen before."

Merlin paused briefly to look at him, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm sure you've met sorcerers before with my skills, Gaius."

"I can assure you," he said rather seriously, "I have not. Magic requires incantations, spells. It takes years to study. What I saw you do was…elemental, instinctive."

"Well, I didn't exactly intend to do it," Merlin muttered.

"Which is quite the point," Gaius told her, swallowing a bit of his soup too. "Magic itself is intentional, it is performed with intent. Spells are specific in the results they create."

"So no one's been able to do magic without knowing spells before?" Merlin guessed.

"No," Gaius said with a bit of awe. "You are a question that has never been posed before, Merlin."

"Wonderful," Merlin said dryly before eyeing him. "You know an awful lot about magic…did you ever study it?"

His head twitched slightly. "Uther banned all such work twenty years ago."

"That's not a no," Merlin muttered to herself, "but why would he do that? Magic's not all bad."

"Perhaps not," Gaius agreed, nodding his head to her words, "but back then people used magic for the wrong end at that time. It threw the natural order into chaos. Uther made it his mission to destroy everything from back then, even the dragons."

Merlin froze, staring at him in utter shock. "Every dragon? But that's…" Dragons were magnificent beasts of great magic, that was what Iseldir had taught her. "That's cruel."

"That may be," Gaius said, "but they were also a danger to Uther's reign of terror on magic. However—" Merlin looked up. "There was one dragon he chose not to kill, kept it as an example. He imprisoned it in a cave deep beneath the castle where no one can free it."

Merlin's became pensive, thinking of the voice she had heard calling her name as she slept.

"Now, eat up. When you've finished, I need you to take a preparation to Lady Helen. She needs it for her voice."

Merlin groaned into her soup. "I haven't been here hardly a day and you've got me running around like a little errand-girl! This is not a good use of my skills!"

"Then maybe it will teach you not to pick fights with princes," Gaius informed her.

A pair of blue eyes blinked at him, her mouth gaping. "Wait…that was the prince?"

"Didn't you know?" Gaius asked, equally surprised.

"Well, no," Merlin said, "though that wouldn't have changed mind of putting him in his place."

"You must be careful, Merlin," Gaius warned with a bit of a sigh at the over-bright glint in her eyes, "it is dangerous for someone of your talents in Camelot…would it be too much to ask for you to keep your head down?"

"Definitely," Merlin agreed, "I'm not sure I really know the meaning of the phrase, to be honest."

One of Balinor's no doubt finer qualities, Gaius thought to himself. It seemed that she had inherited more from her absent father than Gaius had originally thought. This was not truly a good thing.

"You must be careful," Gaius stressed this with as much feeling as he could. "If you get caught you will be executed."

"Yes, well, its not as though I parade what I am through the streets," Merlin said a bit bad-temperedly only to fall silent by a knock to the door.

Gaius answered the door. "Sir Leon, how may I help you?"

Merlin lifted her eyes from her broth to look at the knight that had been very helpful to her in her efforts to navigate the castle.

"I was wondering if you had something for mild headaches," Sir Leon said as Merlin stood quietly from the table, taking full advantage of her uncle's distraction as she slowly and silently made her way towards the direction of her small room.

"Hold it!"

Merlin froze, muttering a swear under her breath.

"Don't think we're done with this conversation," Gaius told her as she twisted around with a smile that was too easy.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Merlin said in a vague manner.

"And you're not getting out of taking that tonic to Lady Helen!"

Merlin's expression soured and Leon was forced to muffle his amusement at the face she now bore that wouldn't have looked amiss on a child who had just been caught trying to do something she wasn't allowed to.

Merlin's grumbles were fairly audible.


	6. Maidservant to the Prince

"I should have you thrown in the cells."

"Do you always throw a fit if you don't get your way?" Merlin asked, her lip curling in disdain.

"I can't decide if you're brave or just an idiot," Arthur Pendragon said, looking her up and down as if he'd never seen anything like her before in his life.

"Try fearless," Merlin offered, "reckless, or audacious, I'd use more, but I'm certain your vocabulary isn't that impressive." Her fingers dug into the earth, uprooting the Leopard's Bane in clumps and putting it in the basket with the small bit of parchment that held the list of herbs Gaius required.

"Do you ever shut up?" Arthur asked, slightly exasperated.

"If you didn't want to hear me talk," she said, standing and brushing the dirt from her trousers to scowl at him, "then you really shouldn't have followed me."

"I think you're probably an idiot," Arthur decided, ignoring her comment and how she rolled her eyes at him.

"You do that," she told him rather shortly, "just remember who had you falling on your ass yesterday, that might bring your ego down."

"What ego?" Arthur demanded. "I don't have an ego!"

"Of course you don't," Merlin said in a patronizing way, "whatever helps you sleep at night, Your Highness." She exaggerated his title and her bow before heading off further into the woods.

Arthur grumbled angrily to himself. "I do not have an ego, little—"

"I'm not deaf, either," Merlin's cold voice added, thrown over her shoulder as she bent down to inspect some henbane. "Just because your daddy's all big and impressive—"

"What're you going on about now?" Arthur asked, screwing up his face slightly as he looked at her.

She stared back with heated eyes. "Don't you have a servant to misuse for target practice?" she asked in a cold voice.

"Oh, you're not still angry about Morris are you?"

"Why are you here?" Merlin asked, her voice scornful. "Obviously your superiority complex hasn't been brought down much since I beat you into the ground yesterday."

"You," Arthur chuckled slightly, "did not beat me into the ground. What you got was a lucky shot."

Merlin's eyes flashed dangerously. "Of  _course_ , a  _woman_  couldn't possibly overpower a  _man_ ," she spat angrily, "no, it must have been  _luck_  on her side." Her eyes narrowed further. "Heaven forbid a woman being stronger than a man!"

Arthur stared after her as she stormed back into town, her dark plait whipping through the air, and he could only offer one word of complaint. "Women!"

"Still a no-good, pompous—" Merlin grumbled to herself only to be interrupted by a voice.

"Talking about the prince, are you?"

Merlin blinked a few times, wincing at how the sun caused the chainmail to meld slightly together. "Sir Leon, never far away, I see."

Leon smiled, a hand resting on his ever-present sword as he walked through the crowd. "Camelot is not as big as it seems…complaining about the prince, were you?"

Merlin made an annoyed sound in the back of her throat. "Do you know anyone else who's a pompous ass?"

Leon laughed slightly. "I would think 'no,' but I would careful what I say if I were you."

"I'm not afraid of being thrown in a cell for a night," Merlin said in a stout voice, her free hand resting defiantly on her hip. In fact, it would be safe to say that there wasn't anything about Merlin that wasn't defiant. "Knocking him on his ass was worth it and I'd do it again."

"Ah, so that was you, was it?" Leon asked, faintly amused. He had heard the rumor spreading around Camelot of a young woman who had bested Arthur with her bare hands. It was hard to believe, but Gwen (who had seen it unfold from a palace window) had assured him the rumor was accurate this time around.

A pale flush adorned her cheeks and she straightened her back, scowling slightly at him. "What of it?"

"It's very impressive, is all," Leon told her.

"For a woman?" Merlin asked in a cool manner.

"For anyone," Leon corrected, assuming the prince had used that line to justify her win against him. Somehow, it would have been less impressive if a man had defeated him, especially when one considered how slight Merlin's stature was. "Arthur's been trained to kill since birth."

"Ooh, what a terrifying child he must have been with a terrifying wooden sword," Merlin mocked, "instilling fear in the greatest of foes, no doubt. It seems he missed a few lessons in "How to Kill" or maybe he's just not as good as he thinks he is?"

Leon laughed at that. "Rubbed you the wrong way, did he?"

"Do you really need to ask?" Merlin asked in irritation, her eyebrow arching slightly as she repositioned her basket of herbs in her arms. "He  _apparently_ ," she said the word with heavy sarcasm, "can't decide if I'm brave or just an idiot."

"Apparently," Leon said with a wry grin, "I'm wondering if you're ever going to not have a retort to something someone says to you."

A corner of her lips twitched upwards slightly, barely a grin, but it made her eyes look less turbulent. "Only one way to find out, is there? Stick around, Sir Knight, you won't be bored, I can guarantee that."

"I don't doubt it," Leon said with surety, "you've already made quite an impression on the people of Camelot."

"It'll only get worse," Merlin said with a mournful sigh that was completely faked, "my mother swears I wasn't this sarcastic when I was born…she always wonders what went wrong."

"What went wrong?" Leon laughed a bit at that. Merlin was a strange one, he'd give her that. But he was sure that sarcasm of hers would only serve to humor him further. It was the start of a beautiful friendship, that much he knew for certain, for, as she had said, he would never be bored with what she said.

* * *

The first time Morgana met Merlin, she mistook her for Gwen.

"You know, I've been thinking about Arthur," Morgana said, moving away from her mirror, "I wouldn't touch him with a lance pole. Pass me that dress, will you Gwen?"

"My name's Merlin," the warlock said, slightly flummoxed, causing the lady's whole body to twist around to stare at her. "Sorry, the door was open. Gaius sent me with a sleeping draft." She held out a small bottle to Morgana who took it gratefully.

"Thank you…Merlin, was it?" A smile tilted her painted lips. "The Merlin that Gwen told me about?"

"Well, it's not really a common name," Merlin conceded, "and if she was talking about someone who knocked Prince Prat on his ass, then that was definitely me."

She thought she might have overstepped a line with her insults, but Morgana actually laughed.

"I heard it was a sight to behold," Morgana said with restrained amusement, "I am Morgana."

"My Lady." Merlin bowed respectfully, unlike how she had before to Arthur. This woman had not demanded respect or asserted her superiority of her birth over Merlin's, so that put her much higher than Arthur. "It's a pleasure."

"Likewise," Morgana said, smiling warmly, "I hear you made quite the impression on Arthur."

Merlin's smile became rather forced. "I'm sure I did. I'm sure the ground made quite an impression on his backside as well."

Morgana laughed again at the way Merlin had worded it.

"Oh, Merlin!" Gwen's surprised voice was uttered from behind the Healer-in-Training. "I didn't realize you were in here."

"I was just dropping off a sleeping draft," Merlin said easily, raising a hand to rub the skin of her temple slightly, the hammering voice of  _"Merlin!"_  demanding her attention.

"Are you alright?" Morgana asked in concern, taking notice of the movement.

Merlin smiled. "Oh, it's nothing," she promised, "just a small headache, but I should go; Gaius probably has more work for me, so…see you."

She bid them farewell, exiting quickly from the room and heading down the first staircase she found. She did not return to Gaius, the voice in her head distracting her too much as she recalled Gaius' words from before:  _"There was one dragon he chose not to kill, kept it as an example. He imprisoned it in a cave deep beneath the castle where no one can free it."_

Could that be what had continuously called out to her? Merlin couldn't think of anything else as she descended down into the dungeons, only to freeze with a wince at the sight of the two guards positioned in front of the long corridor that headed downwards into the deepest parts of the castle.

Merlin's eyes flashed golden as she gazed at the pair who momentarily froze as if time had stopped, which was just what had happened. She slipped past them, lighting a torch and heading down the corridor before they unfroze and time resumed, which happened faster than she had intended so she had to duck behind a column to spare herself from being seen.

Once their attention was taken by their game, Merlin ducked out and continued down, deeper and darker than she would have thought possible.

" _Merlin…Merlin…"_

She took a left into a collapsed chamber housing broken columns from what looked like an attack long passed.

" _Merlin…"_  The deep and low voice was getting closer and louder as she rounded a crudely carved hole that was an outcropping to a much larger chamber of rock that wouldn't have been amiss in a cave in the mountains. The soft sound of echoing chuckles had her turning swiftly, waving around the torch as if hoping to illuminate the speaker.

"Who are you?" she demanded into the cave, stunning herself at how her voice had managed to remain steady. "How do you know my name?"

She lurched backwards quickly as something massive and covered in scales flew upwards to land on the worn bed of stone before her, and Merlin found herself eye to eye with a dragon. Her mouth dropped open in her shock. His scales were a dulled golden color, but he was still by far the most beautiful creature she had ever seen.

"You're a-a-a  _dragon!"_  she sputtered, never imagining that what she thought was calling her could have actually been what she thought it was.

"Indeed, I am," the dragon laughed, his voice old and wise. "And how small you are for such a great destiny."

"Excuse me?" Merlin balked slightly at his words, still gaping at his enormity. "What are you going on about? What destiny? I don't have a destiny."

The dragon's laughter echoed once more around the cave and Merlin cringed slightly at its volume.

"I can assure you, Merlin," he said, still chortling, "you have a destiny, a great destiny, one that is the reason why you are as gifted as you are."

"Gifted?" Merlin sputtered, her cheeks burning pink. "Oh, no! Oh, no-no-no- _no!_  I'm just positively ordinary!"

"Ordinary?" the dragon said in amusement. "Hardly. You were granted your gifts for a reason."

"Wonderful," Merlin grumbled to herself, but she was, for the most part, ignored.

"Arthur is the Once and Future King who will unite the land of Albion," the Great Dragon continued, "But he faces many threats from friend and foe alike."

"And I should care why?" Merlin asked, her eyebrow twitching in irritation.

"Because," the dragon said calmly, "without you, Arthur will never succeed. Without you, there will be no Albion."

"Somehow I really doubt that," Merlin disagreed, "because this Arthur is an egotistical, sexist pig that I would gladly help kill."

His laughter rumbled, loud and low at her response, as if it was the last thing he had expected her to say. "None of us can choose our destiny, Merlin," he said simply, "and none of us can escape it."

"You make it out like I don't have a choice," Merlin bit out through gritted teeth.

"Destiny is a strange thing," the dragon responded, "sometimes it can be changed and other times it is rigid and unchangeable."

"Well, something is clearly very wrong with destiny," Merlin said stoutly, "because this Arthur isn't going to be a great king, he's going to be a prat."

The dragon's voice became light, his great eyes fastened on her as if he could see right through her. "Perhaps it's your destiny to change that."

"Eh?" Merlin's eyes goggled as the dragon spread his wings and flew farther into the cave, his shackles trailing behind him and keeping him within the cave. "You can't just tell me that and run away!" Merlin yelled after it, stomping on of her feet into the ground angrily.  _"Oi!"_

Merlin swore under her breath as she was left in silence with nothing but more questions.

* * *

"Why am I even here?" Merlin complained under her breath.

"You are here because you cannot simply be my apprentice, Merlin," Gaius said with barely restrained exasperation. "You need to work in the castle if you want to earn any money."

"What would I do with money?" Merlin grumbled as they entered into the banquet hall that was already filled with noise and laughter and people. "I dress like a man."

Gaius wondered for the hundredth time if Hunith had simply sent her daughter to him to spite him; that sharp tongue of hers needed curbing. But she had a good head on her shoulders–sometimes–and she was very knowledgeable of herbs and medicines, so it wasn't as though she would screw up any remedies.

Merlin's eyes scanned the room, falling on Arthur for a moment–her thoughts drifting to the words of the Great Dragon–before shifting away with a light scoff to land on Lady Morgana. Morgana had a gift at looking remarkably lovely in anything she wore, something Merlin was grateful that she did not have (she didn't like to be particularly noticeable), the loose crimson gown that hugged her curves modestly made her look more stunning that usual.

Merlin winked to her as she passed and her lips curled upwards further into a grateful smile.

"Merlin," Gaius warned, "you are here to work, not to make friends with the King's ward."

"I can't help that she finds Arthur as arrogant as I do," Merlin said, wrinkling her nose in disdain towards her uncle as he walked away, only to be replaced by Gwen who was smiling.

"She looks great, doesn't she?" Gwen asked her.

"It's a beautiful dress," Merlin agreed, crossing her arms lightly as Morgana moved through the crowd until she was standing before Arthur. "But I suppose being beautiful helps."

Gwen laughed, but not loud enough for those around them to take note of. "I know what you mean…Some people are just born to be queen."

Merlin arched an eyebrow at her. "You want her to marry the king's son?" She certainly wouldn't want to; it seemed like more trouble than he was worth.

"No, of course not," Gwen fumbled, realizing what she'd said, "who'd want to marry Arthur?"

"Not your type, then?" Merlin joked, throwing her a grin.

"Not at all," Gwen said, shaking her head fervently, a few dark curls flying from the movement before she tossed a look to her new friend. "My preference is more ordinary men…What about you?"

"Oh, I've already got one," Merlin blurted out, pink staining her cheeks.

"Really?" Gwen's dark eyes widened as she stared at Merlin. She suppose she shouldn't have really been surprised; Merlin did have a natural beauty to her. "Do tell! What's his name?"

"His name is Percival," Merlin said with a sigh, "and he's very sweet…but we haven't seen each other in over two years…" She bit the inside of her lip thoughtfully and Gwen respectfully kept her mouth shut, though privately she had to wonder if he was still her man if he'd been gone for two years without any contact.

"No men have caught your eye, then?" Merlin asked her, jarring her from her thoughts.

"No, not yet," Gwen laughed, "but I'm sure that I'll find one eventually." Both young women had to stall their conversation temporarily as all the guests took their seats at the sound of the celebratory horns that signaled the arrival of King Uther. Merlin's eyes turned shrewd towards the man responsible for the reign of terror against magic, and her bow was stiff as he passed and careful not to meet his eyes.

The king beamed to them all as the horns quieted, allowing him the chance to speak. "We have enjoyed," he began, "twenty long years of peace and prosperity. It has brought the kingdom and myself many pleasures, but few can compare with the honor of introducing Lady Helen of Mora!" He applauded for the singer, and the nobles were quick to replicate the movement as he moved to his seat and the woman entered.

She was garbed in a flowing gown of gold and lavender that brought out of the pale blue of her eyes and the darkness of her hair as it spilled artfully over one shoulder.

The harp was strung and she opened her mouth and began to sing a gentle, swaying tune.

Merlin could recognize the words in a sense, enough to know that their origins were of magic. Her eyes moved away from the singer to the audience instead as if to pinpoint someone acting strangely, and for a moment, Merlin thought she was simply being paranoid. But then Lady Helen took a step off the small podium that she had been standing on and began to move forward, and that was when the change became obvious as several of the guests began to blink and nod their heads as though attempting to stave off sleep, and then slowly, one by one, the nobles and servants moved so that they were either leaning across the table or against a pillar, falling into a slumber that had Merlin quickly throwing her arms up to cover her ears from the song.

And as her song lengthened and increased in sound, cobwebs spun their way over food, silverware, and people, so that even the king looked to have been in a deep sleep that had lasted for decades, in fact the room seemed to Merlin as though it had been in disuse; the candles had all gone out and the cobwebs had spread to the chandelier above.

The witch's eyes fastened on Arthur as she continued to sing, her voice belling out much stronger than before as she continued to move towards the front table before withdrawing a dagger from her sleeve, aimed towards the prince.

Merlin wasn't sure what she was thinking, surely the world would have been short one arrogant prince if she hadn't moved, but Merlin wasn't one for leaving another in harm's way. She raised her eyes to the chandelier hanging over the woman's head as she poised the dagger for a throw and they flared gold, the rope snapping and dropping onto her, trapping her from the waist down to the floor.

In doing so, Merlin had somehow cancelled the spell, as slowly all the nobles and servants and knights in the hall–including Gaius who had been unfortunate enough to fall under the enchantment–began to wake up in a bit of a daze, surprised to be covered in cobwebs.

King Uther and Prince Arthur stood to peer over the side of the table to where the witch had fallen, the spell to maintain her youth failing and revealing a head a stringy grey hair. But she was not dead, and she looked upon the royals with such contempt as she hoisted her upper body up, propelling it slightly off of the ground, swiping up her dagger and tossing it with a cry of rage.

Merlin's eyes flared gold a second time, but this time it was only to slow the dagger down as she unsheathed her sword at her side, rushing forward to knock the dagger out of the air.

" _One day you might be able to slice an arrow in midair."_

" _You say that as if it's possible, Percival," Merlin had said, rolling her eyes towards the man, not believing him for a second._

She brought her sword down and the metal collided, knocking the dagger to the stone floor with a clatter. Merlin looked at her sword in surprise and then at the dagger and finally at the witch who glared at her with so much anger that Merlin wouldn't have been surprised if she could spit fire at her, but the next second it no longer mattered as she fell to the ground and moved no more.

Merlin suddenly realized that the whole hall's attention was on her and she fumbled, sheathing her blade at her waist once more and glancing to the head table. Morgana was impressed, Arthur was surprised, and King Uther was completely stunned.

"You saved my boy's life," King Uther said and Merlin blinked owlishly at him. "A debt must be repaid." Still, there seemed to be a bit of reluctance in his eyes that might have had something to do with her being a female; she gathered he would have responded more easily to the situation if she had been a male saving his son.

"That's really not necessary," Merlin tried to say, feeling a bit awkward about the whole thing and dearly wishing she had let the prince get skewered going off the look he was throwing towards her at his distaste at being saved by a woman.

"Don't be so modest," King Uther reprimanded her. "You shall be rewarded."

"I don't need a reward, Your Majesty," Merlin disagreed. All she wanted to do was slink back into the shadows and cook up some herbal tonic for insanity because she was certain that was the only reason that she had saved the prince's life.

"No, absolutely," King Uther disagreed. "This merits something quite special."

Why did Merlin get the feeling that what he thought was quite special was not the same thing as what Merlin thought was quite special. Because Merlin thought rare herbs were quite special, thank you very much. She sighed and waited for him to deliver upon her what she would later remark to be the bane of her existence.

"You shall be rewarded a position in the royal household," King Uther continued. "You shall be Prince Arthur's maidservant."

Merlin recoiled slightly at the thought as applause exploded around her, muffling Arthur's "Father!" but nothing could hide the scowls the prince and Physician-in-Training threw to each other when the king's back had turned, clearing showing how much they did not approve of this appointment.

Why oh why didn't Merlin just let him die? Then that would save her from the misery of having to serve him as a servant…may the gods smite her now to spare her. Merlin cursed that blasted dragon; it was definitely his fault.


	7. The Dangers of Tournaments

Hunith could see it in the way Percival glanced at Merlin when she wasn't looking and how her daughter spared him similar looks in return. She understood completely, after all, Merlin had been birthed out of the union between her and the man she had once taken in.

But Percival was not Balinor and Merlin was not Hunith. Children born of magic were unheard of and Hunith knew that if the villagers of Ealdor were made aware of Merlin's unique gifts, she would be shunned for something she could not control.

But Percival was open-minded, one of the few, and a brief slip-up that could have destroyed Merlin was silenced and he uttered no word against her, for which Hunith was grateful.

And he was quiet, Hunith wasn't sure she had heard him speak out of Merlin's presence, and she was sure that if anyone deserved her daughter, he did.

* * *

Let it be known just how much Merlin despised her new occupation, which was a huge waste of her abilities, if you asked her. She knew how to brew herbal remedies and which herbs were best served for which injuries, and she couldn't stand having to wait on Arthur Pendragon who was incapable of dressing himself without a little trouble, used her as target practice whenever he felt like it, sent her to muck out the stocks when she annoyed him.

Gwen was finding it to be rather usual to see Merlin grumbling angrily as she passed her in the corridor, sometimes with a crossbow thrown of her back, looking quite large compared to her slight frame. Today, however, she was garbed in what appeared to be makeshift armor.

"Merlin," Gwen could hardly keep a laugh out of her voice as she and Morgana stopped the dark-haired girl in the hall. Morgana, it seemed, was having as difficult a time keeping her own smile off her face, "what exactly are you doing dressed like that?"

Merlin scowled bitterly as she looked down at herself distastefully. The armor was about a size too big and lumpy, clanging awkwardly as she walked. "Don't you start," she complained, "I just saw Leon and he wanted to know if I was planning on turning myself into an indestructible ball of metal the first time I trip down the stairs!"

Morgana raised a hand over her mouth to cover the giggles that threatened to burst from her lips, but Gwen didn't move fast enough and her laughter echoed loudly even as Merlin stabbed a finger offensively in her direction.

"Oh, shut up!" she complained, color blooming on her cheeks. "I am going to  _murder_  that prat, I swear it upon the stars!"

As she proclaimed this, she pointed an iron-clad arm to the heavens before stalking away rather loudly, ignoring the laughter that followed her.

Really, this was far too ridiculous, and it didn't help that she was starting to hate Arthur Pendragon with every fiber of her being. Sure, he was the son of the man that was the reason she had to hide her magic in fear of execution, but that had nothing to his arrogant, sexist, superior attitude.

Merlin could honestly say she had never met anyone like him before, and that wasn't even close to being a good thing. This prat could barely dress himself without help (and Merlin had already seen more of him than she ever wanted to see, thank you very much) and insulted her every chance that he could, and she already had devised seven ways to kill him without leaving a trace.

But for now, all Merlin could do was scowl sullenly at Arthur, readying her blade.

"I hate you," she told him vehemently, "with every fiber of my being, you complete and  _utter prat!"_

"And you're still an idiot," Arthur retorted.

"Smart enough to be able to poison you without you knowing it," Merlin muttered under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing," Merlin replied in a sing-song voice that fooled no one, least of all him, but he did not comment on it. "Do I really have to wear all this? It's utterly ridiculous!"

"And incredibly funny for me," he called over to her, laughing at the sour expression on her face. "Ready?"

"Does it really matter?" Merlin replied behind her visor, her irritation apparent.

"Not really." Arthur had never treated Merlin as though she was a woman, and she wasn't sure quite how she felt about that. On one hand, she could walk around with her sword at her belt and wear male clothes without people throwing much of a fuss, but then only a very small number of people actually accepted her as a woman, her mother and Percival being at the top of the list.

"What's-the-point-of-stupid-tournaments-anyways?" Merlin demanded, blocking each strike that Arthur threw at her. Some were easy, other's tested her hand at the blade.

"To test a swordsman's skills," Arthur said, rolling his eyes towards the girl who was struggling to force his strikes back. "What else?"

"Oh, you know," Merlin said in what could have been a jaunty voice, "covertly slitting others' throats, what's not to like?"

He ignored her words, but this came as no surprise, Merlin had gotten used to him ignoring her, which was yet another reason as to why she insulted him so often; to see if he was paying attention.

Merlin grumbled something degrading under her breath only to give a short cry of surprise when Arthur's next strike sent her flying and knocked her to the ground, the ill-fitting helmet flying off her head and loosening her tightly woven plait as it did so.

Arthur smirked and Merlin responded with a glare that promised retribution, and she got it by sweeping her leg out and knocking Arthur's out from under him, causing him to fall to the ground in a clatter of metal.

Merlin laughed at the sound of his muffled swear.

* * *

When Gwen saw Merlin again, she was out of her ill-fitting armor and back in her usual attire with dark flyaway hair falling out of her braid and a smudge of dirt on her cheek with a basket of herbs in her arms.

"You look like you had a lovely time with Arthur," Gwen said, her grin wide as she laughed at her friend's expense.

Merlin's lips curled into a sneer. "That arrogant  _cock_! I don't know how I've survived so long as his servant when he's got such a disregard for human life, especially mine, and cares even little about me, next time I'm going to shove his dagger right up his—"

Gwen raised her eyebrows in surprise as Merlin described just where exactly she was going to shove his dagger, and it sounded vaguely painful. "I think he likes you."

Merlin balked, her mouth gaping as she looked at Gwen as if she had just told her the most appalling and disgusting thing in the world. " _Likes me?_ What on  _earth_  are you going on about?"

"Usually he just sacks people who irritate him," Gwen said, shrugging as best as she could while holding a basket filled with Morgana's laundry. "From the way you're complaining, he should've sacked you days ago, but he hasn't, ergo, he likes you, or at least your banter."

"Thank you so much for those enlightening words," Merlin said in the driest voice she could imagine. "That makes me feel loads better."

"How's the tournament etiquette coming along?" Gwen asked instead and Merlin's shoulders slumped as she threw her head back and groaned.

"Horribly! It's been made apparent to me that I have no idea what each part of a suit of armor is or when it's put on or even how to put it on!" If Merlin could have released the basket, she would have clutched at her face in aggravation. "How on earth am I supposed to learn all this by tomorrow for the tournament?"

Gwen smiled in a patient manner. If there was one thing Gwen was good at, it was being patient. She was the tempered storm to Merlin's uncontrollable raging tides. Luckily, Merlin was getting a bit better at controlling her emotions, though Arthur was indeed trying on her last nerve; Merlin remembered a time when her magic was constantly effected by her mood, causing sudden floods from wells or fires in fireplaces to rise several feet into the air –another reason for Merlin's mother to send her away from Ealdor and its prying eyes.

"I can show you, if you like," Gwen offered, startling Merlin out of her reminiscing, "show you where the armor goes and how to put it on."

"Really?" It would have been almost comical how relieved Merlin looked if she hadn't been so completely serious, so Gwen stifled yet another laugh –as she seemed to be laughing a great deal now, probably since Merlin had arrived in Camelot, because Merlin made everything funny– and promised that if she brought the armor to her small cottage –and that was a modest term for her home– she'd show her where everything went.

"You could always ask Sir Leon as well," Gwen suggested as well with a thoughtful expression on her face. "He probably knows more about tournament etiquette than me, since he's performed in a few of them, and he won't be in this one because its limited to only one knight per realm, so he might be willing to share his knowledge…" Gwen blinked and stared at the empty space beside her and giggled; clearly Merlin had seen Leon as her salvation in surviving the next three days and had dashed off to find the knight in question.

"Sir Leon!" Merlin called his name out as she dashed down the hall after a head of ginger curls (she had returned to Gaius' chambers only for a short amount of time to hand over the herbs before darting out the door and into the corridor). "Wait—"

He stopped suddenly and Merlin ran straight into him, getting a face full of chain mail in the process and later Merlin would have likened the experience to running head-long into a wall…only a slightly softer wall.

Merlin stumbled backwards, falling onto her back as he turned around and Merlin wanted to hit the expertly faked expression of polite surprise on his face as she clutched her own.

"Merlin…what're you doing on the ground?" he asked her, his light eyes twinkling in the light.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Merlin grumbled behind her hand, her cheeks already pink with embarrassment.

He extended a hand to her, the gentlemanly thing to do, to be sure, and Merlin, very reluctantly, took it, allowing herself to be pulled into an upright position once more, finally removing her other hand from her face. "Are you alright?"

"Don't worry, I might regain feeling sometime in the next two weeks," she replied, rolling her eyes with more emphasis than was probably necessary.

Leon smiled. "Still having trouble with Prince Arthur, I see."

"I always have a problem with Arthur," Merlin said with a scowl. "I've lost feeling in my upper arm because of him!"

"A very serious concern," Leon replied with a serious nod.

Merlin stabbed a hand into his chest. "This is why I stay away from you knights, you never take me seriously! And I'm trying to ask you for a favor over here!"

"Alright," Leon said with a chuckle, "what's your favor?"

"Gwen said you fought in a lot of tournaments."

"Yes," Leon agreed, not quite knowing where the conversation was going.

"Well," Merlin sighed abysmally, "Arthur wants me to learn tournament etiquette by tomorrow, so I figured the best way to do that was to ask someone who's actually been in one."

Leon arched an eyebrow at her. "Wouldn't it be better just to read about it?" he inquired. Seeing Merlin with a book wasn't too strange, given how she was Gaius' apprentice as well as his niece and ward.

She gave him a flat stare.

"Alright…what do you want to know?"

* * *

If it wasn't clear, Merlin thought senseless violence was pointless, perhaps this was because she had bandaged up enough wounds to last a lifetime, and this was why she didn't much care for knights fighting in tournaments where they could very well die.

"Then you're still missing the point entirely," Arthur responded to her words heatedly.

"I really don't think I am," Merlin retorted, scowling as she pulled the vambrace over Arthur's lower arm with difficulty (really, it was his fault for having such bulky chain mail). "There!" She stood back to look at the armor she had so carefully strapped onto the young man, but her expression quickly soured at the look in Arthur's eye.

"The more impressed you are, the more idiotic I feel."

"Good!" Arthur snorted and Merlin spared him with a venomous glare, mocking him striking through the midriff with his sword before handing it over. "Nervous?"

He certainly looked nervous, at least, to Merlin, with his complexion slightly paler than usual and his darting around constantly as though looking for threats no one could see. Merlin knew the type; Percival was on edge days after he had fallen into her care, undoubtedly searching for the bandits who had tried to mug and kill him.

Arthur's eyes snapped to hers and he scowled at her. "I am a knight, knights don't get nervous."

Merlin rolled her eyes, raising her hands to attempt to fix a few loose strands back into her thick plait. "You say that like you're an entirely different species…humans do feel anxiety, you know."

He didn't deign her with a response, striding away from her as she muttered a few scathing remarks under her breath that earned her a call over his shoulder. "I can hear you, you know!"

"Good!" she replied with a vein of irritation running through her words. "I've been wondering if your hearing is up to par!"

She almost didn't hear it, but the short chuckle was there and she was almost surprised that he could make such a sound without sounding like a complete ass.

Merlin marched past the knights that were gathering in the arena, moving in two single file lines to spill out onto the grounds before the King, to rest slightly beside a stone post as Uther descended from his throne-of-sorts to speak to them.

"Knights of the realm," Uther began, his voice causing silence to rain down upon the stands filled with the men, women, and children of Camelot, "it's a great honor to welcome you to a tournament at Camelot. Over the next three days, you will come to put your bravery to the test, your skills as warriors—" Merlin couldn't help but snort quietly to herself at that; this was probably why women outlived the men in this village, because the man were so busy achieving their 'bravery', what a load of tripe (Merlin would have made a terrible knight if she were male and a noble, that much she knew without guessing). "—and, of course, to challenge the reigning champion, my son, Prince Arthur. Only one can have the honor of being crowned champion, and he will receive a prize of one thousand gold pieces."

Uther waved a hand behind him towards the Court Treasurer who opened a chest that was filled with the large number of coins and a few exclamations of wonder filled the air.

"It is in combat that we learn a knight's true nature," Uther continued, "whether he is indeed a warrior or a coward." His pale eyes swept over the men standing before him, garbed in capes, armor, and tunics and Merlin had to repress a shiver. For all of her sarcastic remarks and disdain towards Arthur, if there was one person in Camelot she both feared and hated, it was Uther Pendragon, because he was the reason so many of her people, people who used magic, were slaughtered.

This man could gain no redemption in her eyes.

"The tournament begins!" As these words were said, an explosion of cheers resounded and Merlin sighed, expelling a loud breath.

"You don't have to watch, Merlin," a wizened voice commented and Merlin turned to meet Gaius' gaze. "I'm sure Arthur won't be offended if you don't."

Merlin snorted, turning back towards the arena. "That's not why I'm staying, he'll probably end up injured, or worse."

Gaius' lips curled upwards slightly, but she missed the expression to watch as Arthur ducked under a strike, but gained a slice to his shoulder for his efforts. Merlin winced. The chainmail probably protected him more than anything, so the most he probably had was a bruise, but Merlin doubted it would hinder him too much.

Arthur elbowed his opponent and his helmet flew off as he fell, and he did not get up, earning a win for Arthur. And if one thing could be said about Arthur, it was that he was by far the most chivalrous of his competitors.

A troubled frown marred Merlin's lips as she focused on undoing Arthur's hauberk from his chest, trying not to watch the stretcher that held the body of a knight's who's neck had been snapped by Knight Valiant, and she was further surprised when she set it down the table to see the man stopping near them.

There was something very off about him, something malicious behind his dark eyes that had Merlin's fingers dropping to the hilt of her blade, and it was not an action that he missed.

His eyes raked over her and she met them steadily, though she was disregarded, mostly because she was a woman –something that grated on her nerves immensely– but also probably because she appeared to lack any real physical strength.

"May I offer my congratulations on your victories today?" he said smoothly with an inclination of his head that was hardly a bow.

Arthur eyed him for a moment. "Likewise."

Merlin didn't relax until Knight Valiant was out of sight. Men like him were the reason her mother had her hide under her bed whenever Kind Cenred and his knights rode through Ealdor.

* * *

"You're being unusually quite tonight," Gaius remarked later that evening, looking up from his weighted tome and over his spectacles towards his ward who was scrubbing thoroughly at Arthur's helmet and had been muttering mutinously under her breath for a better part of an hour only to become abruptly silent, "…stain? The hell there's a stain! It's good as new, but  _nooo!_  If Arthur says there's a stain,  _there's a stain!"_

"Well, that generally happens when Prince Prat gives you enough chores to make your arms fall off," Merlin said with spite before becoming a bit mournful, "I'm never going to be Court Physician at this rate!"

Gaius chuckled softly, turning his eyes back to the parchment and away from Merlin's pout. "I've got a few years out of me yet, you needn't worry, and your knowledge of the healing arts is most appreciated."

"Thanks," Merlin said in the driest voice she could manage, setting aside the helmet to pick up the sword and stone and begin sharpening the blade. "So glad  _someone_  appreciates my efforts." The jibe was not aimed towards him, Gaius knew, but Arthur.

"It will get better," Gaius promised, removing his spectacles as he looked upon her once more, "you just need to get used to—"

"Being a servant?" Merlin asked shortly with a light scoff to her voice. "Honestly, I probably had more rights as your unpaid apprentice…this is punishment for being a woman and saving the prince's life, mark my words."

"You're being melodramatic," Gaius said, his lips curling upwards slightly. "Better to be the servant of a royal than a noble."

"I'm not so sure," Merlin muttered under her breath, turning her attention back to the sword.

"I'm surprised that you haven't tried to spell everything to clean themselves," Gaius said, attempting to move the conversation a bit away from the direction it had been straying towards.

Merlin blinked twice in surprise, looking down at the metal in her arms and then looking up blankly towards Gaius. "Huh," she said finally, "I never actually thought about it…but that would speed things up, I suppose."

"You suppose?" Gaius repeated her words as though they were so very strange. "I would've thought you would come to that conclusion yourself."

"Ah," Merlin said in a faux-ancient voice and a smirk that made her eyes shimmer a lighter blue, "but you are speaking to someone who spent a great deal of time with druids." It was one of Iseldir's teachings that she had learned at a very young age to not rely heavily on magic, that was how some magic could corrupt others, and it wasn't a situation she needed to find herself in, he had told her.

She gathered up the armor and the sword in her arms with difficulty. "Well, I'm going to go and put this away and head to bed…gods above know I'm going to need it if I'm going to survive this tournament without ripping off Arthur's head." The last bit was muttered under her breath, but Gaius heard it quite easily.

And he watched as she struggled with difficulty to open the door, finally managing it, her face glowing in the half-light from his chuckles before she disappeared out of the door, clunking away down the corridor and into the armory.

The armory was more filled than usual, holding the shields, armor, and weapons of the visiting knights hoping to prove their worth against the might of Camelot (otherwise known as Prince Arthur). Merlin found Arthur's space with little difficulty, straightening the chainmail and armor over the table before laying the sword over the chainmail horizontally.

Merlin rubbed at her eyes, yawning tiredly for a moment and flexing her shoulders before freezing at the sound of something that sounded vaguely like the hissing of a snake. Immediately, Merlin's eyes fell to the ground and she knelt to check under the table for the serpent, but there was nothing there.

Merlin frowned in confusion as she stood once more, glancing around, hearing the sound once more, but still there was no snake in sight. She twisted around once more, her eyes falling on Knight Valiant's shield, which was the only one that held a coat of arms of snakes (one that Merlin doubted actually belonged to a Noble's House). Her eyes flashed gold briefly, allowing her a closer look, and then she had to take a step back as one of the painted snake eyes blinked.

Merlin exhaled suddenly and moved through the rack to make her exit when she found herself faced with the man himself.

He towered over her, but that might have been simply because he was a great deal larger than her, because his height was nowhere near that of Percival's.

"Can I help you, girl?" he asked, his voice scornful.

"I wasn't aware it was a crime to put away armor," Merlin replied with just a sliver of disdain as she moved to pass him, but he gripped her wrist tightly. Her eyes hardened into sapphires. "Release me," she said, her voice gaining a darker tone, "or I promise it will be the last thing you do."

Probably not a good idea of her, being a servant and all, threatening to kill a knight, but Merlin wasn't known for backing down from a fight.

"I am a knight," he sneered, "you will show me some respect."

"The bad thing about being a knight is you won't fight dirty," Merlin retorted, bringing her knee up to nail him in the groin and yanking her hand out of his loosened grip and racing away before he could even think to come after her.

Yes, Merlin definitely thought Valiant was up to no good.


	8. Venom of the Snake

The next day Merlin had a thin bandage wrapped around her wrist to hide the bruises Valiant's grip had caused on her flesh, and it was something Gaius noticed immediately, no doubt from his occupation of choice.

"What's this?" he asked when she joined him for breakfast, practically inhaling her porridge before speaking.

"Oh, I just got nicked by Arthur's dagger, that's all," Merlin said in an evasive manner, but it didn't fool Gaius.

"Yet there is no blood?" he remarked.

Merlin didn't even bat an eyelid. "It congealed in the night, I'm just keeping it on so that it won't become infected."

Gaius, however, didn't believe her for a second, and he took her arm before she could pull it back, pulling the bandage away slightly to see the discolored color of her skin beneath. "Merlin," he said her name quietly and Merlin quickly retracted her hand, tightening the bandage once more.

"It's fine, it's not like someone tried to off me," Merlin said in such a careless manner that Gaius had to stare.

"Should people be trying to kill you?" he asked aghast.

"Well, wouldn't they?" Merlin replied, blinking owlishly. "You know, if they knew?"

Gaius couldn't really deny the truth in her statement. Only three options were open to those who practiced sorcery in the presence of others, and that was: to be burned, hanged, or to risk it and run. And he was sure that Merlin, while proud of who she was, would choose the latter rather than death.

Merlin downed her cup of water in an instant, before standing, gathering up her used bowl and spoon and moving them to the sink to be cleaned for later. "I'd  _love_  to stay and chat," she said with a bit of false-enthusiasm that anyone would have seen through, "but I've got to go watch men try to murder themselves for glory and money."

The disdain was evident in her voice as she threw her jacket up and over her shoulders, flipping the braided tail of hair out from under the collar and striding out of the room to head across the courtyard to where Arthur was waiting for her.

"You took your sweet time," he jibed at her as she fixed his armor over his chainmail.

"Oh,  _please_ ," she replied with a snort, "I saw you walk over here less than a minute before me, you were not waiting that long!"

His eye twitched and Merlin couldn't help but smirk at the small victory that she had gained over him. She turned around to glance over at Arthur's first opponent of the day, a knight whose height exceeded even that of Percival's (an impressive feat given her…friend's stature) and wore a simple grey tunic.

She whistled lowly. "Good luck on taking that one on, looks like you're going to need it."

Arthur made a grunt of annoyed agreement. "He's as strong as a bear," he admitted grudgingly, "but he's slow."

Merlin appraised him with an arched eyebrow, holding his sword aloft. "And I suppose you think you're fast?"

A slightly insulted expression wormed its way onto his face as he turned to look at her. "Of course I'm fast!" he said, his voice rising slightly in pitch.

"Oh, really?" Merlin said, looking remarkably unimpressed as she rested a hand on her hip. The stature she had taken up was one that her friend Will had long since called her "Daring Stance," as if she was saying "Come on, what else have you got?" She held out the sword to him and he practically snatched it from her hands as though the longer she held it, the more contaminated it became. "Remember how I handed your ass to you the first time we fought?"

"That," Arthur said, just a trifle smug, "was not a fight."

"Oh, you mean because I'm a woman," Merlin said, her eyes sly, "because a woman couldn't have  _possibly_  kicked your ass in a fight."

"Now, wait—" Arthur tried to correct her before she spun him around and positively threw him towards the arena.

"Try not to die!" she yelled after him as the trumpet sounded and the battle commenced. Merlin didn't watch too much of the fight, other than to see that Arthur clearly dominated, winning with a decisive blow.

"It's not that you're a girl that's the issue," Arthur informed her between gulping down a bit of water to prepare for his next duel, "it's because it clearly wasn't a fight."

"If you're talking about the part where I didn't stick around to claim glory over you, I would have thought the reason why was quite obvious," Merlin retorted dryly, before spotting her guardian as he strolled past. "Gaius!"

"Merlin," he replied in kind.

"Can a woman best a man in a fight?" she inquired, causing the older man to pause, glancing between the prince and the maidservant, seeing quite well that this was apparently a subject they were squabbling over.

"I'd rather not say," he said instead, earning groans from both before Merlin's attention was drawn towards the next fight which was of Sir Valiant against a knight known as Sir Ewan. The battle was nearly over by now with Sir Ewan's helm rolling on the ground as he was pinned down by Valiant's shield.

Merlin narrowed her eyes at the tactic, but it wasn't that that had caught her eye, it was that one of the serpents on Valiant's shield appeared to be moving, just as one of the eyes had blinked the night before. It was unnerving.

And a second later Valiant was standing to cheers and his opponent was just lying on the ground. Merlin fought to move forward, her fists clenching from the effort. She wasn't used to letting other people do the caring for the injured.

Arthur noticed more than she gave him credit for, taking note of the yearning in her expression as she looked over to where Gaius was crouching.

He sighed. "I'm sure Gaius could use an extra pair of hands."

She positively brightened in a manner that almost scared Arthur, but Merlin was a weird one. Though, he supposed, one day she would be his Court Physician, so he might have to get used to it.

* * *

Getting a comatose Sir Ewan back into the castle was no easy task, and Merlin would be feeling a pull in her back for weeks, she was sure. And then she had to race back to Arthur's side once more until the end of the tournament, before making her way back to Gaius' quarters again.

"How is he?" she asked after unceremoniously dumping Arthur's armor on the table. "It didn't look that serious when he fell…but has he even awakened since then?"

"He has not," Gaius said, leaning back and allowing her the opportunity to inspect the knight himself. "And his injuries are small."

Merlin checked him pulse, surprised to find it so slow, as though the blood was sludge-like, moving through the body not even close to the speed that it should have. It was very worrying, especially since this man was a knight who needed a constant flow of blood throughout his body.

She tilted her head slightly, catching sight of two small marks on his neck. "Did he get these in the fight?" she asked, looking up with an expression of confusion.

"That is my belief as well," Gaius concurred, "but look at the shape of the marks."

Merlin bent closer in order to do so, inspecting the marks closely. They were very small puncture wounds, too small to have been caused by even the lightest prick of a blade (besides, most injuries caused by swords were slashes from the blade's side), and the marks were rather close together like—

"They look like bite marks," she said in surprise.

"Snake bite marks to be precise," Gaius said, nodding his head in agreement.

Merlin met his eyes, leaning back with a confused expression on her face. "But that doesn't make any sense…there's no way he could have gotten bitten by a snake during a sword battle, we would have seen it…" She cupped her chin thoughtfully, remembering how the snakes on Valiant's had seemed almost alive.

Gaius attempted to straighten his hopelessly crooked spectacles as he sat down beside the body of the unconscious knight. "Yet the symptoms are consistent with the same poisoning effects that snake venom induces: slow pulse, fever, paralysis."

"Is there an antidote to this kind of snake venom?" Merlin asked, striding over to fetch a bowl of water and a rag from his flaming brow. She laid it gently against his forehead with a murmur of a few phrases in the Druidic tongue if Gaius wasn't mistaken. Perhaps there was some magic involved, because the knight's form relaxed, expelling a soft sigh. "Can he be healed?"

"He can be, if it is indeed a snake bite," Gaius said, "which I suspect it is, however, in order to make an antidote, I'll have to extract the venom from the snake that bit him."

"And if he doesn't get it in time?" Merlin pressed, raising her eyes from the patient before either of them as Gaius busied himself with gathering a few supplies, dutifully evading her eyes, though she could imagine why.

"Then I'm afraid there's nothing more I can do for him," he said quietly, "he's going to die."

"Yesterday when I went to the armory to put away Arthur's armor and weapons," Merlin said suddenly, "I could have sworn that the eye of one of the snakes on Valiant's shield blinked, and then when he was fighting Sir Ewan, it looked like the snake moved  _out of_   _the shield."_

Gaius paused and turned back towards her. "Are you certain?"

"No, but I will be," Merlin said, grabbing her sword up from the table she had dropped it onto the table moments previously.

"No, wait,  _Merlin!"_  He tried to reel her back in, but it was useless. Merlin had an incredibly stubborn head on her shoulders, and once she got started it seemed as if nothing could stop her, which was entirely possible, knowing her. He sighed, muttering something under his breath somewhere along the lines of "meddlesome ward." But she at least had her heart in the right place.

Darkness had descended upon the castle, bathing the corridors in shadow with flames flickering ominously in their brackets. But finding the armory in the darkness was no difficult feat, remaining silent was far more difficult, especially when she saw what laid within.

Merlin pushed the door open slightly so that she might see inside, recoiling a little in case Valiant glanced her way, but she needn't have worried, his attention was completely focused on the mouse he had removed from a small cage, dangling the squeaking creature by its tail.

"Dinnertime," he said, sitting on the bench before his shield, and as he held out the mouse, three snake heads poured from the shield. Merlin nearly gasped, only silencing it just in time by smothering it with her hand. But she couldn't afford to do anything while he was still in there, it would be better to wait until he had finished his business and gone to bed. So Merlin ducked around the corner to hide in a darkened crevice until he left.

And once he had done so, he passed frightfully close to where Merlin was hiding, so much so that her heart beat frantically against her ribcage, and only when he was gone did she release the breath she had been holding and duck out of her hiding place to move towards the now-locked armory.

But locks were no difficulty for Merlin, not since Gaius had given her his grimoire which held a startling number of spells.

Merlin glanced around to be sure that no one was coming before raising her hand towards the door handle.  _ **"Aliese,"**_  she breathed, her eyes flashing golden as the lock clicked and the door swung open, admitting her inside.

The shield hissed in response to her presence.

"Come and get me," Merlin enticed it, resisting drawing her weapon until the last possible moment, "try for a bite."

One of the heads drew itself out of the wood to bare its fangs at her, but Merlin wasn't scared, not even slightly. Her blade was unsheathed in an instant, and she swung the sword violently towards the head, severing it neatly and causing it to drop to the floor, unfortunately this only served to rile up the other two heads, so Merlin beat a hasty retreat, snatching up the head before swinging the door shut behind her.

First to Gaius to create an antidote and then to Arthur who should know of the magic Valiant was using.

* * *

Realistically, Merlin should have realized how much in deep shit she was in (Will's words, not hers), but she didn't realize how utterly pear-shaped things had gone until it was too late to rectify the situation.

Merlin dug her fingers into her hair, resisting yanking on it viciously. Everything had been going fine when she told Arthur about the head and he agreed to bring it to his father's attention, since they had a witness, seeing as Sir Ewan responded well to the antidote, however, when they needed his word, he was apparently assassinated by one of the remaining snakes in Valiant's shield.

It was a he said-she said matter, with a servant speaking out against a knight, who were supposedly the epitome of honor (Merlin knew very well that this was not always the case), and Uther had overlooked her claim in an instant, not that she was surprised. But it stung her that Arthur thought she couldn't be trusted.

A weight sat down beside her and she barely glanced to the side to see that it was Gwen. "Hello," she said dully, only to be surprised as Morgana herself appeared at her other side.

"How are you, Merlin?" Morgana asked, her eyes soft and her tone gentle, a similar expression to the one that Gwen was currently wearing.

"Oh, I've been sacked, what's not to like?" Merlin muttered, scrubbing at her eyes as though rubbing sleep from them.

Morgana's smile was sympathetic and Merlin was sure that she had seen countless servants dismissed by the prince.

"Is it true?" Gwen asked, drawing her thoughts away from how much she'd like to ring the neck of the king with one hand and the prince with the other. "What you said about Valiant using magic?"

Merlin sighed, leaning back on the steps with a morose expression on her face. "What's it matter?" she replied gloomily.

"Of course it matters!" Morgana disagreed vehemently, but her words gained no response from the sullen girl.

"What're you going to do?" Gwen asked instead and Merlin's eyes shifted towards her, a dark eyebrow arched.

"Why should I have to do something?"

"Well," Gwen floundered briefly, "shouldn't you? I mean, you have to prove to everyone that you were right and they were wrong."

"As if they'd ever admit to that," Merlin said with a scoff, and Morgana had to agree with her there.

"She's right," Morgana said with a sigh, "Uther is terribly prideful, he would never recant, even if he was told prior that a knight was using magic, simply on the grounds that he is king and you are a servant."

"This is why dealing with royals is such a pain in the ass," Merlin grumbled before quickly adding, "no offense" towards the Lady Morgana who smiled in response, obviously not taking it to heart.

Merlin pushed off of the stairs to pull herself up into a standing position, grabbing her bag and straightening her sword at her side. "Well, I'd best be off," she said simply, reveling in the flabbergasted expression both women before her were wearing.

"Bu-But you can't just  _leave_!" Gwen cried, standing as well with Morgana. "The final round is tomorrow!"

"I know," Merlin said, her eyes steady, the color darker than Morgana had realized. "And I'll be back by then, it's not as though I'm going that far…besides, I need some advice from a wise man."

"A wise man?" Morgana said blankly. "How is advice from a wise man going to save Arthur?"

A short laugh escaped Merlin. "You'd be surprised," was all she said. "I'll see you tomorrow at the fight." And then she turned on her heel making her way towards the castle gate, into the lower town and out of Camelot entirely.

"Am I the only one who thinks her leaving is a bad idea?" Gwen murmured more to herself.

In retrospect, Merlin probably could have asked Gaius for advice on the matter of proving that Valiant was indeed using magic, but she trusted Iseldir far more than she did Gaius, and Iseldir had known her far longer. He was the one who had to pull her away from the White Mountains when she snuck out of Ealdor as a child, wanting to climb it to see where dragons lay, he was the one who had taught her to heal and inspired her desire to become a physician.

So Merlin wandered along, whistling a jaunty tune, seemingly innocent of her surroundings but keeping a careful hand on the hilt of her sword just in case.

The road curved, heading off towards Odin's lands when Merlin cut away from road and into the lush greenery of the forest, the flora in full bloom at this time of year. It didn't take her long to find what she was searching for as she weaved around several clusters of trees to see an older man sitting comfortably on the ground with grey hair and knowing, pale eyes.

"Iseldir," she said his name reverently, but she did not bow, it just wasn't the way the druids did things, even though he was the Druid Chieftain, a title that commanded respect.

"Merlin," he said her name easily, and as he always did, as though restraining from calling her something else, what, even Merlin could not be sure, "how may I be of service?"

"I am in need of your counsel," she said without preamble, dropping to sit before him, playing with the end of her braid, a habit she had regretfully developed over the years.

"On what matters?" he inquired.

The words spilled out of Merlin's mouth before she could stop them until suddenly she was spinning her tale of the last few days, of what she had seen and what the court had believed, two things which were vastly different.

"You believe that this rogue knight will attempt to kill Prince Arthur?" Iseldir asked once she had paused for breath.

Merlin could only nod.

"So you must prove to Camelot that he is using magic."

"Yes, but I don't exactly know how to do that," Merlin complained, scowling into the earth, stalling her fingers as she attempted to rip the grass blades from the earth.

"There is a spell," he told her, and Merlin forced herself to remain silent to hear him out fully before speaking, "one that can allow that which is not animate to become so."

"So…" Merlin frowned thoughtfully. "You're saying that if I use this spell, others should be able to see the magic for themselves?"

He nodded.

"What is it?"

* * *

Luck was not on Merlin's side the next day, as she woke up rather late and alone in the forest. And unfortunately she had no way of knowing when the last match would be, meaning it could have very well been occurring as she came to this conclusion.

Merlin struggled to right herself, despite being completely spent from attempting to learn the animation spell the previous night, as she pulled herself sluggishly to her feet, throwing her bag across her back and gripping her sword as she took off at a run.

Thus, she almost ran into several trees (on the upside, she seemed to be more awake now, even if it was simply to avoid breaking her nose on another tree) before making it out onto the main road, but even then she didn't stop, her feet battering against the ground as she ran until the muscles of her legs burned and she was finally outside the gates of Camelot.

Merlin took a short breather, leaning forward to brace her hands against her knees, breathing in deeply so that her lungs hurt from the movement, but then that moment was over, and Merlin could hear the cheers of battle from within the village and that spurred her into action more than anything.

And she was off again until she came to a stop at the entrance of the arena, skidding in the mud as she ducked behind a pillar, careful to stay out of view from any onlookers as she watched the two knights collide with each other.

Arthur twisted to avoid a strike, slamming his sword against Valiant's shield, but it hardly did any damage, but his next hit caused Valiant's helmet to fly off, and Arthur threw off his own as well, to level the playing field, Merlin supposed.

This only resulted in Valiant becoming far more aggressive and Merlin winced at the uppercut he had thrust towards Arthur's face, causing him to fall to the ground, losing him shield as he dodged a fatal stab from Valiant's sword.

Arthur was shoved against the wall, Valiant's shield on his chest before he pushed the man violently away and Merlin was offered her chance.

She inhaled and exhaled slowly, extending a hand and reciting the words:  **"Bebiede þe arisan cwicum!"**

Her eyes flared a bright gold and as Iseldir had described, the snakes protruded from the shield as Merlin had seen before, and the stunned disbelief on Uther's face that a knight would resort to using magic was well worth it in Merlin's mind, even before Arthur spiced off the two remaining heads and ended Valiant's life.

The relief she felt when she saw that he was dead sickened her, even hours later when everyone else in the castle was busy with the feast, Merlin kept carefully away from the celebrations, staying on the outer wall, looking out as far as she could see.

She shivered as a brush of cool air tugged at her skin.

"You know, it's probably warmer inside," a voice commented and she turned slightly towards the Reigning Champion, Arthur, who had a slight smirk on his lips.

Merlin shrugged a bit stiffly, remembering how he had yelled at her the other day. "I'm fine." Her eyes were focused out on the horizon once more.

Arthur shifted a bit awkwardly in his formal attire. "I wanted to say…I made a mistake, and I shouldn't have sacked you."

"Are you apologizing because you realize I didn't really humiliate you or because its right?" Merlin asked, her eyes shrewd and Arthur grimaced.

"A bit of both," he admitted. "I shouldn't have said what I did."

Merlin couldn't help but smirk and pat his head in a slightly condescending manner. "Its very good that you know that, it means you're evolving!"

Arthur's cheeks reddened as he knocked her hand angrily away. "Oi!"

"I can do what I want," Merlin returned before he could say any more. "I'm not your servant anymore."

"Well, I'm rehiring you."

She couldn't help the pleased grin that formed on her lips at his words.


	9. Of Druids and Bandits

"This was a terrible idea," Merlin said with utter surety, binding the lavender together into bushels to be dried upon their return to Camelot. "It would've been better for me to have gone alone, that way at least one person with medical knowledge would still be in the palace!"

"But you would not know the best places to find these herbs," Gaius replied with a chortle as Merlin placed the lavender gingerly in one of the bags they had brought.

"I dunno," Merlin grumbled, "I'm  _pretty sure_  you can find all these on the White Mountains."

As it so happened, Gaius' herb stores were greatly depleted, so he took this as the best opportunity to show her where the best places to find the herbs in Camelot were located, so that she would be able to do this trip alone at a later date. However, in doing so, Camelot was left without either her or him, so they could only hope that no one come down with a sudden ailment or injury for the next hour or so (really, it was however long it took Merlin to mark down the locations on her map –a bit crudely sketched, to be redrawn at a later date).

"Is that where you went to gather herbs when you lived in Ealdor?" Gaius inquired as he straightened up, feeling his age as back ached from his weight.

"Sometimes," Merlin conceded, "but usually I went into the Forest of Ascetir, since the White Mountains are a few days walk from Ealdor. Iseldir took me there a few times when I was a little girl and showed me what each herb could do…that's what really made me want to be a physician, and Ealdor needed someone like that, so it worked out well."

Gaius hummed softly in agreement. "Yes, the White Mountains has perhaps an overabundance of medicinal herbs, no doubt owing to the fact that many are used in magical poultices. But most prefer to pass around the mountains than go over them."

"Because of the rumors of sorcerers and creatures of the Old Religion that roam the lands?" Merlin asked, rolling her eyes and deepening her voice just enough before bursting into giggles. "Or so everyone believes."

"They are not wrong," Gaius said with a soft chuckle. "But those that live there do not take kindly to those who intrude upon their solitude."

"As they should," Merlin said with a snort. "But if everyone knows that sorcerers live there, why hasn't Uther exterminated them all?"

Gaius paused securing his thyme in one of the bags they had brought. "There are many things Uther knows better than to attempt," Gaius admitted slowly, "and I'm sure he knew it would be safer to allow the sorcerers to disappear to nearly the outskirts of Camelot where hardly any breathe a word of magic than allow them to remain within the walls of the castle."

Merlin pursed her lips, but she opted not to speak of the matter. Thinking about all the crimes that Uther had done against her people tended to make her sick to her stomach. Admittedly, traveling to Camelot had first terrified her when her mother had suggested it and she had at first thought it to be some sort of punishment for a crime she was thought to have committed. She had thought if she met the King's eyes that he would see right through her and know instantly of what she was.

He was the monster under the bed that Merlin feared more than anything else in the world, and she had been so stunned that whenever he looked upon her he didn't realize that she had magic.

"Now, come and let me show you where we can find some thistle," Gaius said, crooking his fingers towards her in a 'come hither' gesture and Merlin replied by complying with a good natured roll of her eyes.

"How did you run so low on herbs?" Merlin demanded as she followed after him to a small patch that was growing thickly in a small grove. "How long have you been putting off this trip, Gaius?"

Gaius coughed uncomfortably in a manner similar to those who wished to draw attention away from themselves. "Well…my life is very busy at the castle."

Thus bringing them back to Merlin's point to start with: Why hadn't he just stayed in the castle in case he was needed, while Merlin went into the forest to look for herbs? But who was she to argue with him? She ended up just sighing in exasperation at his words.

"So, what else do we need?" Merlin asked as she bound the herb together in a flurry of fingers that resulted in her nearly knotting her fingers in the binding.

"That, I believe, my dear girl, is all for now," he said with a soft chuckle as Merlin marked the spot on her map.

"Good, because its nearly midday and I'm starving and Arthur's up to who knows what, probably half-dressed, seeing as he doesn't have much skill in that department," Merlin grumbled more to herself as she stood only for the ground underneath her boots to become unsteady and breakaway, sending her tumbling down the ravine.

"Merlin! Merlin, are you alright?" Gaius called after her as she groaned, rubbing at her head as she stood.

"Fine," she grunted, "it's only a bit of damage to my head." Her sarcasm was duly noted. "Go on without me," she called up. "It's going to take me a short while to get back up."

"Are you sure?" Gaius asked in concern. "I can wait."

"Don't bother," Merlin snorted. "I won't be that long."

And then Gaius' face disappeared from view, leaving Merlin behind in the wilderness.

* * *

It became quickly apparent that Merlin couldn't just walk up the way she fell down; it was much too steep at a nearly vertical angle.

Merlin rolled her shoulders, working out the kinks that had appeared only after her short fall as she massaged a hand into her side where her sword had caused an indent in her skin.

"Ah…I am luckless!" she declared to the trees as she straightened up. "Why couldn't I have fallen down a shorter hill or something?"

But there was no changing the fact that Merlin be able to climb back up unless aided by magic, and trees had eyes and ears in Camelot, so Merlin knew better than to practice her skills out in the open. She was just going to have to walk around and see if it leveled out into a more manageable incline that wouldn't have Merlin hanging off of it.

She tugged on the end of her plait in irritation before striding off to find a way around when her foot connected with something metallic. Merlin paused to stoop and lift something circular from the ground, smoothing away the mud that had been caked on with a careful hand.

Her eyes widened and she twisted around violently, searching for someone in midst of the trees, but there was no one there. She recognized the workmanship of the medallion, of course, since she was the one who had made it, for a young Druid boy named Caedmon.

"Caedmon?" she called the name out into the trees, but she received no answer. The boy wouldn't have parted from it willingly, it was his most prized possession.

A fear pooled in her stomach. Had he been kidnapped?

" _Merlin! Merlin!"_

_The dark-haired girl barely had time to catch him as he flung himself towards her, a bright smile on his face as he hugged her, now tall enough to be level with her stomach, but he was still only nine years old._

_Caedmon had golden-brown curls that framed his sun-darkened cheeks and nearly hid his deep brown eyes._

" _Caedmon, did you run all the way here to see me?" Merlin asked with laughter making her eyes dance and the boy bobbed his head in agreement._

" _Merlin, when you're a master, can I be your apprentice?" he asked her, moving back and forth on his foot, making his excitement obvious and telling Merlin just how dearly he wanted to know the answer to his question._

" _Well…magic is still outlawed," Merlin said with an expression of contemplation that was greatly exaggerated._

" _But if magic wasn't outlawed? Please, Merlin!" Caedmon begged._

" _Well, then!" Merlin laughed, kneeling in the grass before him so that her face was slightly above his. "If magic wasn't outlawed, I rather think I'd enjoy having you as my apprentice."_

" _Really?" Caedmon positively beamed._

" _Really," Merlin said with a smile, ruffling his hair affectionately as she did so, and it was a mark of how exceptionally pleased Caedmon was that he didn't bat her hand away as he usually did (he was getting to that age where he felt such actions were childish, but Merlin generally ignored him on the matter, delighting in embarrassing him). "Oh! I almost forgot! I made you something."_

_She removed her hand from the top of his head –something that relieved him as he wrinkled his nose at her, making her snigger– to search through the bag hanging from her shoulder that usually held herbs and withdraw something and hold it out to him._

" _Here you are," she said, "I was experimenting on a bit of metal a few days ago and accidentally made a medallion and thought you might like it."_

_Caedmon turned it over in his hands, admiring the patterns carved into the metal with a lotus blossom at the center, the symbol for rebirth. Though the design included a flower, it could hardly be viewed as feminine._

" _It's beautiful," he admitted after a long inspection that made Merlin smirk. "It's really for me?" he asked in a small voice._

_Merlin stood, rolling her eyes as she did so. "Who else am I supposed to use my magic for? Come on, future apprentice, let's get you back to your mum before she paddles both of our behinds with a spoon."_

_Caedmon tried to smother his giggles as he took her hand, his other one holding tightly to his new gift._

Merlin took a calming breath, but it didn't really help her much; she was still worried out of her mind. She pressed a hand to her forehead, murmuring out spells faster than most could be said properly said, searching for a spell that might help her find him, but in the end, she didn't even need one.

" _Is there not a tracking spell?" Merlin inquired, looking up from Gaius' grimoire to give the older man a flat stare._

_He lifted his eyes from a particularly ancient text, spectacles perched lopsidedly on his nose as he looked through them to meet her eyes. "There is not a spell in particular," he conceded, "however, one may force their eyes ahead, so to speak, but it does not require an incantation as many do."_

" _But as you grow more powerful, don't you have to use incantations less?" Merlin queried._

" _That is true as well."_

" _There are too many bloody rules for this," Merlin grumbled to herself, making her guardian chuckle softly as he went back to his reading._

Merlin's eyes flared gold as she pushed her awareness out, away from her, gripping the medallion in her hand tightly to ground her as she searched for him. It was an unnerving experience, if you asked Merlin, one she wasn't planning on repeating any time soon, unless she had no other choice.

Though, on the upside, she did find what she was looking for, but when she pulled back into the present her knees buckled, and she very nearly fell over. And then she was simply cupping her forehead with a cool hand for a few moments, waiting of her headache to subside as she mentally promised to not use the spell for a few months at least (though, Merlin had to be glad that it wasn't the kind of spell that depleted the life of the user the more often they used them; she tended to stay very far away from spells of that nature).

Merlin scowled darkly as she removed her hand from her forehead to instead rest against the hilt of her blade.

" _Never charge into a battle you can avoid."_

" _Easy for you to say," Merlin grumbled, parrying his strike with one of her own, becoming uncomfortably aware of just how close he was to her. They were nearly chest to chest, and his was bare. The heat flooded her face and she hoped against hope that Percival wouldn't notice, but that was a foolish idea, as the man was perhaps one of the most perceptible people she had ever met in her sixteen years. "You're big enough that you can take people down with your bare hands!"_

_Percival smiled, using a well placed twist of his sword to disarm her and then whip her around with a startled squeak so that his blade was to her throat and he was behind her._

_Merlin tried very hard not to become even more flustered, but it wasn't working too well._

" _It's better to distract your opponent," he added, his smile widening until it was very nearly a smirk, "that way, taking them down is a simple matter."_

_Merlin swallowed thickly as he stepped away, dropping his sword. "Distraction, right, got it…wait, was that what you were doing?"_

_He only laughed as Merlin's face flushed a bright crimson._

It was better to be sneaky, that was what Percival had taught her, thus Merlin crept quietly along in the direction that Caedmon had been taken and it was almost a shock that Merlin hadn't been able to tell before, when one considered just how thick the scent of magic was in the air. Most couldn't smell it or feel it, but Merlin was different. She was special, or at least that was what Iseldir believed. She saw good in others when they couldn't see it themselves, she healed regardless of status or money, she looked at magic and saw the beauty it could create and not the destruction it had caused. To her, magic was life, not death, and that was what made her unique.

And Merlin saw the goodness and the innocence that shone inside Caedmon and she wanted to preserve it, but that was a nearly impossible thing in the world they lived in. And by the gods, when she found the men who took him, she would make them regret the day they had entered into this miserable world.

Merlin stepped carefully through the forest, in the direction of male voices and a flickering fire. Merlin ducked behind a nearby tree to gaze into the gathering.

It was made up of at least four men and one bound boy. Caedmon's hair was tousled and tangled and his lip was bloody with a purpling bruise marring the skin over his cheekbone. Merlin glared at the men. Slave-traders, she supposed, but they usually stayed within Cenred's kingdom (and the only reason Merlin knew this was that, being the incredibly luckless person that she was, she had nearly wandered into a similar encampment while chasing a butterfly, only being pulled away by her mother at nearly the last moment). And what would anyone want with Druids? Most tended to stay very far away from then, given most were known sorcerers.

"Did you have to damage the goods?" one of the men complained. He was easily the eldest of the lot with dark ratty hair and a small braid that hung from the side of his head.

The blonde one scoffed as Caedmon glared up at him, his lips pulled into a tight line (Merlin suspected that the only reason he wasn't gagged had something to do with the bruise on his cheek. "Oh, please, so what if he's a little roughed up? They'll still pay good money for him."

"Can't imagine who'd want a little Druid boy, if you ask me," one of the brunettes said with a shrug, "but money's money."

"Here, here," the other two agreed.

Merlin's eyes narrowed. Wait…where was the fourth one? She realized her mistake a second too late as a figure came behind her, the cool metal of the dagger pressing against her jugular.

"Bad move, darling," a voice breathed in her ear and Merlin had to strain not to shiver in revulsion as the man behind her gripped her, pulling her away from the tree and towards the group of men and their prisoner, taking her blade from her while he was at it.

"Lookit what I found, gents," he crowed, keeping the sharp edge of the knife pressing into her neck, "a little rabbit eavesdropping on private conversations."

Merlin ignored the men briefly to meet Caedmon's eyes, as the lad had sat up suddenly as she had been dragged into view. His eyes, though wide and fearful, now held a flicker of relief. Merlin would find a way out of this, no problem.

And then she gazed at the men in pure contempt as they shamelessly leered at her. She couldn't quite understand why, there were far more beautiful women in this world than her, but she doubted that mattered to these simpletons. When she would sometimes look up and catch Percival gazing at her, it was different, mostly because he didn't look at her as though she was a piece of meat.

"A little girl playing hero," the blonde chuckled. "What's your name, beautiful?"

"None of your damn business," Merlin sneered, her voice as condescending as she could manage.

"Smart mouth, I like it," the brunette added, licking his lips. "Who gets her first?"

Merlin's blood boiled. Who gets her first? No one was getting her, period! And she was going to personally stab each one of them, whether their injuries led to their deaths was not her concern. This was a pretty callous attitude considering how Merlin didn't really care much for unnecessary violence, but currently she was quite beyond caring.

"I'll rupture your spleen for that comment," Merlin promised, feeling the weight of the knife that she had hidden in the sash bound tightly to her waist against her stomach, her fingers twitching to grab it.

" _Feisty,"_  the first one leered. "Even better."

Merlin didn't have much time, so she moved fast, jerking herself away from her captor, punching him in the throat as she ripped the knife free from her sash with the other, throwing it with zero precision whatsoever towards the brunette that liked her smart mouth (Merlin tried not to shiver in disgust as she thought about it), and it lodged in his abdomen and Merlin hoped it was embedded in his spleen, because that would make her life remarkably simpler.

Her captor stumbled back, completely winded, allowing Merlin to wrench her blade from his grip with a glare. "This is mine, you bastard," she seethed as she gave him a slice to the side for good measure before moving on to the last two who appeared to be much larger than she had originally thought.

"Can't take us both, lass," the blonde chuckled only to pause as she smirked.

"Oh,  _please_ ," she said with more than a little bit of scorn towards the men, "I once bested a man in swordplay who would make the two of you together look like an average sized man, but I only need to hit one of you."

"Hit one—? _Ah!"_  The dark-haired one cried out suddenly as Merlin pulled the knife from the man it had downed moments before to lodge it painfully in his shoulder before slicing across the blonde's chest. And then she pulled the knife swiftly out, earning a second cry, cleaning it and her blade on the grass before coming to Caedmon's side, and cutting through his bindings.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her neck, whispering "I'm sorry," repeatedly into her ear as she lifted him up and into her arms, determined to take him as far away from his would-be kidnappers as she could possibly take him.

"Sh, it's alright," she murmured into his hair, "you're safe Caedmon."

He was heavier than she remembered, but that was to be expected, as he was indeed a growing lad, and it didn't help that her hands were shaking slightly from the attack (hers and theirs). The idea of being viewed as something to sexually exploit simply because she was a female that wasn't ugly and was hardly plain and was in the forest at what could be considered at the wrong place and wrong time, it terrified Merlin more than she was willing to admit (and she was willing to admit a lot).

"I knew you'd come," he whispered into her shoulder, but Merlin heard it all the same and she tightened her grip on the boy.

"Of course I'd come!" she laughed shakily. "I'm making a long term investment with you, Caedmon! One day you're going to be the apprentice people wish they could be!"

His shoulders shook slightly, but Merlin knew that it wasn't from crying but restraining the giggles that were threatening to burst from his lips.

It was only when they had gained a good bit of distance between them and the encampment that Merlin allowed Caedmon to walk on his own.

"Come on," she hummed softly, "let's get you back to your mum before she worries that pretty head of hers right off."

Caedmon gaped at her and Merlin snorted.

"No, that can't really happen," she promised. "I'm sure if it could've happened we would know by now."

"Maybe," Caedmon mumbled before jumping slightly as Merlin dangled his medallion before his eyes. He grasped it eagerly, a smile blooming on his lips.

"Try not to lose it this time around," she warned and he nodded quickly. She grinned. "Good lad."


	10. Phantom Plague

Merlin was many things and did many things, including kneeling down next to a corpse, which would have made Gwen throw up a little in her mouth, Merlin was certain. But it was better for her to do it than Gaius with his frail limbs.

"He can't have been dead long," Merlin said, her words nearly a mumble so as not to draw much attention towards them, "the body's not stiff enough."

"What else can you draw from that?" Gaius asked her, treating this as though it was some kind of training for when she was Court Physician, which it could be considered, she supposed.

"His veins are a bit obvious and his skin is so pale that it's a little blue," Merlin mused, "shall I turn him over?"

"Please do."

Merlin grunted slightly as she pulled the face-down body to face the sky by tugging at the side of his waist that was opposite her and then she had to recoil slightly at what she saw. The face was just as blue-tinted pale as his arm had been, but the eyes were completely white. Merlin had never seen anything like it before.

"He," Merlin decided, "did not die of natural causes."

"No, he did not," Gaius agreed, appearing greatly troubled. "People mustn't see this. They'll panic."

Merlin frowned slightly, but she still took the ratty sheet he offered her, covering the body as best as she could. "We have to get him back to the castle," she said, "and I've hardly the upper body strength to carry him, and you're completely out of the question."

Gaius shot her a shrewd look before gesturing off to the left. "Grab that wheelbarrow. It will have to do…and I'll leave you to do the heavy lifting, shall I?"

Merlin glared. "You think you're so funny, Uncle, don't you?"

He smiled congenially at her, but it did little to pull the wool over Merlin's eyes as she dragged the wheelbarrow over with difficulty and with a bit more difficulty managed to lift the corpse into the wheelbarrow, quickly replacing the sheet over the body and glancing around to be sure no one saw.

"I think it would be best if this young man was taken back to the castle quickly," Gaius told her and for once Merlin had to agree with him there as they both took up a handle and began to pull their covered cargo towards the castle.

"Does Arthur known you're out here?" Gaius asked her conversationally.

Merlin couldn't help but snigger. "Nope…he's not going to be pleased."

Gaius arched an eyebrow at her response and she merely rolled her eyes. "What's the worst he's going to do to me? Have me muck out the stables?"

Gaius had to hum in agreement to that as he took one of the handles and Merlin took the other and with a bit of work, they managed to wheel the covered corpse over to the drawbridge that was currently down to allow people inside the courtyard, and it was there that Merlin and Gaius met their first obstacle: Gwen.

"What are you doing?" a familiar voice asked and Merlin whirled around to see her bronze-faced friend.

"Oh, er, you know," Merlin said evasively, "moving heavy stuff, the usual."

"It does look heavy," Gwen had to agree, though couldn't be quite sure of just what it was that the pair were carrying. "Do you need any help?"

"I assure you, Gwen, we have it well in hand," Gaius told her with a small smile.

Gwen smiled back, though hers was far brighter than Gaius' by far. "Alright, then…see you later, Merlin!"

"See you!" Merlin called after her was her fellow maid positively skipped way. She seemed to be in a very good mood, if you asked Merlin, which made one of them; tending to a corpse that may or may not carry a contagion of sorts didn't really count as a good day for Merlin.

"Let's hope we get no more interruptions," Gaius told her shrewdly.

Merlin gave him a jerking look. "You're making it out like this is my fault, and, just in case it's not obvious, I  _am_  the incredibly innocent party here! Gwen's the one who started the conversation, not me!"

That seemed to matter little to Gaius as they dragged the wheelbarrow through the courtyard.

"Gaius…how exactly are we supposed to get this body into your chambers without anyone noticing that we've got it, especially since the wheelbarrow can't fit through all those corridors?" Merlin asked him and the physician paused briefly.

"Do you think Sir Leon would be willing to do you a favor?" he asked her and Merlin gave him a filthy look at how innocent the words had been said and then left, stalking off in search of the ginger-haired knight.

Finding him was not as easy as it would seem, because, even though his ginger mop was a dead giveaway, the castle was rather large, but she found him eventually.

"Hey, Leon!"

The knight turned around to arch an eyebrow at her. "Merlin."

"Leon," she said, nearly mocking him, "how's your strength?"

Leon paused and stared at her, not quite understanding. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your strength," Merlin said impatiently. "Are you strong or not, Leon? It's a rather simple answer, you know."

"I suppose strong is a relative term," Leon said dryly, "whatever do you need strength for?"

"I'd have to swear you to secrecy for that," Merlin said, shooting furtive glances around in an exaggerated manner.

"What is it you need, Merlin?"

She grinned.

* * *

Gaius examined the head of the corpse while Merlin looked over his hands and arms again.

"I've never seen anything like this before," Gaius told her, leaning back from his examination with his looking glass that helped to amplify what his fading sight could not see.

"No contusions," Merlin remarked, "he doesn't seem to be injured at all."

"Yes," Gaius agreed, a frown marring his lips briefly as he gazed down the length of the body with contemplation.

Merlin's eyes flashed up to meet his, her blue eyes surprisingly serious. "This couldn't be some kind of plague, could it?...Though I suppose we'd have to wait for more bodies to consider it a plague," she mused.

"I believe it is something quite different," Gaius disagreed, shaking his head and causing his white hair to flutter slightly from the movement. "I fear that something like this could never come from nature. But who has this kind of power?"

Merlin frowned, leaning back herself, away from the body. "You think the cause is magic?" she guessed.

A sudden loud yell of  _"Mer_ lin!" had Merlin scrambling for the door and swearing loudly as she went, barely opening the door before Arthur reached it, keeping it carefully open only a certain amount so that Arthur wouldn't be able to see inside.

"I'm on my way," she told him as blank-faced as she could manage in the face of his clear-as-day irritation, before adding, for good measure, "sorry I'm late."

"Don't worry," Arthur said dryly, "I'm getting used to it."

"Well, then, maybe you shouldn't have taken on the physician-in-training to be your maidservant," Merlin replied tartly, barely restraining from rolling her eyes, "what're you going to do when you're king and I have obligations to the sick and wounded?"

"I'll worry about it then."

Merlin faked a smile and said –a bit sarcastically–, "Sure, you will."

He ignored this, glancing her up and down. "You know," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly, "there's something about you that's bothering me…"

Merlin gave an exaggerated sigh. "Tell me, was it the masculine clothing or the sword?" Someone always had something to complain about in regards towards her.

"Surprisingly neither," he drawled, "it's that you only wear one vambrace." He pointed a finger towards the leather forearm protector she had tightly bound to her right arm.

"What's wrong with that?" Merlin asked, heat creeping up her neck at the thought of the owner of the other vambrace.

He gave her one of his special I-know-more-than-you looks. "They come in pairs."

"So?" Merlin demanded. "Do I question your fashion sense?"

"Yes," he said, but Merlin ignored him.

"— _No,"_  she said, "so you leave my vambrace out of it! Now, did you need anything, Prince Prat?"

Arthur scowled at her, considering pulling rank on her before deciding that it would just be a waste of time since she would probably just ignore him. "Tell Gaius my father wants to see him now."

"Fine," Merlin said, slamming the door shut in his face.

"I imagine that vambrace is of some significance," Gaius said lightly, quite amused when heat flooded her face.

"Oh, shut up, Uncle," she grumbled. "Did you hear Arthur, about his father…?"

"I heard," he told her.

"Am I a bloody courier?" Merlin grumbled to herself. "No, I'm a bloody  _healer_ , but does anyone care?  _No!"_

"You're a servant," Gaius corrected her, "which means sometimes you just have to do as you're told."

"All this for saving a prince…it's hardly worth it," Merlin scoffed in disagreement as she threw a sheet over the body to hide it from prying eyes before following Gaius out the door.

"And do try to keep your head in the presence of the king," Gaius warned her, "that's the part of you that has me particularly worried."

Merlin nearly glared. "Did my mum tell you to watch out for that?"

"The mouth that gets away? Yes, she did."

Merlin jutted out her lip slightly at those words, slightly irritated and slightly resigned, but this was her mother, after all. Hunith knew Merlin better than most people and she knew quite well that Merlin always had something to say.

"Do you think they found another body?" Merlin asked instead and Gaius hushed her with a rather significant look as they entered the throne room and all was made clear.

Sprawled on the floor garbed in the typical uniform of the servants of the castle, was another corpse bearing the same symptoms as the body they had back in Gaius' quarters.

Merlin and Gaius knelt down beside it, inspecting the body closely for a few moments to ascertain if the symptoms were identical to that of the first corpse, well aware of the nobles that were speaking in hushed whispers around them.

"What's happened to him?" Uther demanded and Gaius leaned back to address him.

"I don't know, Sire," he said. "It's the second case I've seen today."

Merlin glanced up and Arthur gave her a look.  _That's what you were hiding!_

She narrowed her eyes.  _What did you want me to do? Forget about the corpse?_

He jerked his head slightly.  _Yes!_

She rolled her eyes, looking back over the corpse in front of her. What an  _ass!_  Why did she agree to stay on as his servant in the first place?

"Why didn't you report it to me?" Uther implored Gaius.

"I was attempting to find the cause," Gaius admitting, standing straight, and Merlin followed suit, keeping her mouth politely shut, refraining from making any remarks.

"And what did you conclude?"

"I don't think it's time to hurry to conclusions," Gaius said, and even Merlin could tell how evasive he was being. "The scientific process is a long one."

"What are you concealing from me?" Uther asked shrewdly.

Gaius breathed out carefully. "Sire," he said, "I have seen nothing like it. The victims are dying in twenty-four hours, and it's spreading fast." Merlin noticed a few nobles, including the Prince Prat himself, took a step back at that, but she didn't move from where she stood; she had no fear of death by illness.

"What is the cause?" Uther pressed him.

Though he was very reluctant to speak on the matter, Gaius did have to admit that there might only be one cause. "I think you should say the cause, the most likely cause, is sorcery."

Merlin tried to look as inconspicuous as always when magic or sorcery was brought up, but, like usual, no one looked towards her. Uther, instead, pulled his son aside to have words with him, though Merlin heard every word of it.

"We must find who did this," Uther told him.

"I will, Father," Arthur promised.

"Conduct door to door searches," Uther continued. "Increase your presence in the town. Double the guards on all the gates. And lend the physician your servant."

Merlin knelt down with Gaius to lift the body as Arthur balked slightly. "Merlin? But—"

"I'm going to need Gaius to find a cure," Uther insisted. "He needs all the help we can give him. If Gaius is right, believe me, this city will be wiped out. This is the kind of magic that undermines our authority, challenges all we've done. If we cannot control this plague, people will turn to magic for a cure. We have to find this sorcerer, and quickly."

"Yes, father," Arthur agreed.

* * *

Merlin was half asleep from the stress of searching for a cure the whole day with no such luck. The whole day had been rather terrible, if she had to give it a word. Arthur had spent it searching the upper and lower town of Camelot for the sorcerer and Merlin had to keep forcing herself to not try to help those suffering from the mysterious plague, and there were many.

"I can't find anything," Merlin bemoaned as she rubbed her eyes with one hand; it was no use, the longer she stared at the words, the more they floated off the page. "There is nothing here, Gaius."

"I suspect that this is magic of the darkest kind," he said, lifting a flask filled with the contents of their first corpse's stomach over a small flame.

Merlin blinked blearily as she sat up. "I never thought of using magic that was dark," she admitted.

"That is because you would never have felt the desire to," Gaius said. "But magic corrupts and people use it for their own ends."

"Not all magic," Merlin corrected him, "magic is neutral, its user isn't." That was one of the first lessons that she had learned from Iseldir.

"Indeed," Gaius agreed, "however there are many who do not share a similar view."

"What a shock," Merlin said dryly, slamming her book shut so fast that she dislodged a bit of dust that induced a small coughing fit. Her coughing only ceasing when the door was suddenly thrown open and several knights filed inside with Arthur.

"Sorry Gaius," Arthur told him as he strode inside, directing his knights to begin searching, "we're searching every room in town."

"What for?" Gaius asked as the knights began to spread out in the room, rifling through his things.

"A sorcerer," Arthur replied.

"But why would he be here?" Gaius inquired, raising his voice slightly as Merlin looked around nervously. The magic grimoire that she had been given by Gaius was carefully hidden, but she couldn't help her heart beating a little fast out of reflex.

"I'm just doing my job," Arthur replied in a placating manner as he turned away to inspect the books that Merlin had been spending the better part of the night reading.

"We've nothing to hide," Gaius said, glancing to Merlin out of the corner of his eye. "Go on, then. Search."

Merlin couldn't help but wonder why they were looking at the items that covered the benches and tables if they were looking for a sorcerer, but she thought it best not to mention that.

"What are all these books and papers?" Arthur asked, lifting a few for good measure.

"Don't hurt yourself," Merlin couldn't help but snark. "Those are pretty heavy."

Gaius shot her a look of warning and Arthur narrowed his eyes briefly at her before Gaius answered his question. "My life's work, dedicated to the understanding of science. You are quite welcome to read through them if you wish."

Arthur turned away slightly to hide the gagging grimace, but he didn't do a very good job of it and Merlin hid her snigger behind her hand. "What's that room up there?" he asked instead, gesturing up to where Merlin spent her nights.

"It's my room," Merlin said, "there's not much in there." It wasn't as though she had been in Camelot more than a month.

"And what exactly are you expecting to find?" Gaius asked quickly.

Arthur turned back to survey them for a short moment and Merlin had to wonder if he truly thought they were the source of the plague. "I'm looking for material or evidence suggesting the use of enchantments," he told them.

Gaius tapped her wrist lightly, speaking in low tones so they wouldn't be overheard. "What have you done with the magic book I gave you?" he asked her.

"They won't find it," Merlin said with complete certainty. The book was hidden whenever she didn't have it out to study the spells, hidden under her floorboards quite well, she had to admit.

But she was still relieved when Arthur returned down the steps, clearly not having found anything. Merlin relaxed her vice-like grip on her elbows which were still crossed across her chest.

"How long do you think it may be before you find a cure?" Arthur asked as he moved towards where they were still standing in front of the corpse-ladened table.

"It depends on how many interruptions I get," Gaius said, giving the prince a rather significant look that he no doubt took to mean "like certain princes and guards."

"Of course," Arthur said before adding, to Merlin's great surprise, "I'm sorry." He jerked his head upwards slightly to raise his voice to the still-searching guards. "We're finished here."

It was only once they had all gone that the pair released a breath of air.

"Make sure you keep that book out of sight," Gaius warned her, turning back to his flask of stomach.

"What if there's something in there that can help?" Merlin asked him, her imploring eyes meeting his.

"Don't be foolish, Merlin," Gaius barked. "Practice magic when the king is hunting for sorcerers? That's the quickest way to the chopping block!"

"I'm a healer!" Merlin snapped. "Am I meant to sit back and watch people die?"

"Your time will come," Gaius said with a sigh.

Merlin did not agree.

* * *

The next day brought the sun rising on more casualties.

Merlin had never felt so helpless before, and she certainly didn't like the feeling. She had never ignored those that were in need; she couldn't shrug it off like Gaius could (or at least he appeared to, he was the far more rational of the two).

"Merlin?  _Merlin!_  Are you listening to me?"

Merlin blinked a few times and raised her head to meet Gaius' eyes with hers. "What? Yes, I was listening." She hadn't gotten much sleep the previous night and the stress of working in the midst of a plague was starting to get to her.

"I was asking you to tell me what's different between this victim and the others," Gaius told her.

Merlin glanced over the most recent corpse. It was a woman dressed in fine silks and wearing delicate jewelry. "She's a noble," she said with a frown, "and most of the victims are of lesser status…so, she can't have been in contact with them."

"Yes," he agreed, "it suggests that the disease is not spread by contact."

"Didn't we already know that?" Merlin asked flummoxed. "We've been touching corpses and we're still not sick."

"It is always better to be certain," Gaius told her shrewdly. "Now, if the disease is not spread by contact, what is the only thing that they share?"

Merlin screwed up her face in thought. It couldn't be the air, obviously, or she and Gaius would have been dead several times over. It couldn't be the food, since those in the lower town –which was where a great deal of the victims lived– did not eat the same quality of food as those who lived in the castle. That only left— "Water!" she said suddenly. "It's got to be! The disease is spread by water!"

"Merlin," Gaius said with a grin, "you're a prodigy."

"Well," Merlin grinned slightly in return, "only in things healing-related, or magic, I suppose…"

"Now, be a good lass and fetch some watch from the lower town so we can see what is causing this plague," he told her, handing over the heavy bucket that Merlin usually used to fetch the water.

Merlin did as she was told, disappearing out the door and heading off towards the lower town on surprisingly quick feet. Moving down the road was much easier to do when you took into account that very few were out and about.

Fear of the unknown plague had spread like wildfire through Camelot and as it was, Merlin could have easily compared it to a graveyard with how still and silent it was.

Merlin sighed as she found the water spout, taking the lever and pressing it down several times until she had enough water for Gaius to run his tests, and in doing so she caught sight of Gwen running towards the castle with her crimson cloak fanning out behind her, but it wasn't enough to block the tears that were falling down her cheeks.

"Gwen?" she questioned, but the girl ran past her. "Gwen!"

Merlin grabbed the bucket and began to race after her friend, being very wary of the poisonous water that sloshed inside the bucket with ever movement, but, luckily (or unfortunately as it would later be discovered) Gwen seemed to be heading in the same direction as Merlin: Gaius' chambers.

She burst through the door, startling the older man terribly that he nearly dropped his magnifying glass, however he could not be reproachful when he saw the look on her face. "Gwen!"

"Gaius!" she gasped, breathless from the run to the castle, not noticing as Merlin entered after her.

"Do you have the sickness?" Gaius asked her and Merlin did a quick check, her eyes roving over Gwen's visible skin, but she couldn't even see a hint of the tell-tale pallor or obvious blue veins mapped across the skin like spider webs. Gwen appeared to be perfectly healthy…apart from being so distraught.

Gwen shook her head quickly before descending into sobs. "My father," she cried, " _please_ , Gaius! He's all I have!"

"I have no cure," Gaius said as gently as he could manage, being completely honest.

"I am  _begging_  you," Gwen pleaded as though he could create something out of thin air at that moment.

"I wish there was something, anything, but so far the remedy is beyond what I can achieve," he told her regretfully. "I'm sorry, Gwen."

Renewed tears fell from her eyes and she fled from the room, leaving Merlin's eyes falling in the direction that she had left. She wanted to help Gwen, but they didn't have any remedy to the plague.

Merlin frowned. Should she even dare to save just one life, even if it was a modest blacksmith?

The answer was one Merlin already knew.


	11. The Source of Ills

It was all her fault, and even Merlin couldn't dispute that. If she had been more vigilant and less relieved, she would've removed the poultice she had placed under Gwen's father's pillow the previous night.

Why hadn't it occurred to her that it would be viewed as suspicious if a man who was afflicted by the plague suddenly was well? Why hadn't she tried to have at least tried to heal a few ill citizens of Camelot so that it would seem that some of them had developed an immunity to the plague somehow?

But Merlin hadn't been thinking.

She had only been thinking about how Gwen had been sobbing and begging for a way to save her father, and Merlin had. But it would cost Gwen her life.

_All because of Merlin._

Arthur and the guards had searched Gwen's father's house for whatever had cured him in the night when they found Merlin's poultice, and of course it was brought immediately to Uther's attention.

Merlin sighed as she scowled out the window of her room, her hands clenched tightly around her elbows.

She may have been the cause of Gwen's current situation, but Gwen wouldn't be in that situation if Uther bloody Pendragon hadn't enacted a kill-on-sight order for all those suspected of sorcery (or at least, restrained-and-thrown-in-the-dungeon-until-they-can-be-decapitated-or-burned-alive order). Merlin could never understand how someone could be so blind to all the good that magic was capable of, but she had given up on Uther.

He cared not for the lives he had robbed from others in the name of protecting Camelot from magic. He wondered why so many angry sorcerers attacked Camelot, yet didn't fathom that he was the cause of everything. If Merlin had been a child who had made a butterfly out of innocence in his sight, she would have still lost her head.

It was times like these when she missed Ealdor more than anything, how she missed her mother and Will, and Percival who was so far from her now. They hadn't judged her harshly when she'd revealed what she was (though her mother had always known what she was capable of), they'd accepted her. There had to be a reason why she was so good at healing them all when they found themselves injured.

In Camelot Merlin felt more like a shadow of her former self than anything, spinning careful lies of her past around those that spoke with her. Sure, she was as outspoken as ever, but…if she was truly honest about everything, Merlin would've been a corpse lying on the ground, like Gwen soon would be.

Merlin expelled a shaky breath as she watched the soldiers carefully prepare the pyre to burn Gwen on before she came to a decision and then she threw her jacket over her shoulders and opened the door, striding down into the main quarters of the Court Physician, leaving the room before he could chastise her again what her foolishness had cost her.

She strode through the corridors until she could descend into the dungeon to the cell where Gwen was slumped on the ground, her shoulders shaking in what was no doubt tears.

"Gwen!" Merlin called quietly, and the maidservant looked up, a brief light brightening her dark eyes at the sight of her friend. She stood and tried to take a few steps towards Merlin, but she could only go so far with the shackles to her wrists that were locked to a chain on the opposite wall.

Gwen's face fell and she raised both hands to her face to smudge the tears that had fallen. "Thank you," she told Merlin, her voice shaking even as she tried to keep it steady.

Merlin couldn't imagine what she could be thanking her for, Merlin was the reason she was in this mess to begin with; Gwen should be blaming her for what happened (if she had known, that is), not thanking her.

Merlin grabbed the bars that lay over the cell. "What d'you mean?"

"For coming to see me," Gwen clarified and Merlin's face grew somber.

"I'm  _so_   _sorry_ , Gwen," she breathed, looking more miserable than Gwen had ever seen her look.

"It's not your fault," Gwen tried to console her, giving her as slight a smile as she could manage without breaking down into tears once again. Her eyes fell to her shoes and she blinked furiously to keep them at bay, and thus missed the regretful and guilty expression that made itself present on Merlin's face.

"But—"

"It's alright," Gwen told her, swallowing thickly. "Don't worry about me. There's no point c-crying about it."

"Oh, Gwen," Merlin murmured as she reached a hand through the bars to just barely grasp her friend's fingers. "Of course I'm going to worry about you, Gaius and I are going to find whoever or whatever is doing this, and then we'll get you released."

But the smile Gwen gave her in reply belonged to someone who had already given up hope, and she held tightly to Merlin's hand, as though it would be the last bit of friendly human contact she would be allowed before her death.

"Please, one thing," she asked, biting on her lower lip, looking a little uncomfortable, "you, you don't have to, but…"

Merlin frowned in curiosity. "What, Gwen? What is it?"

Gwen's eyes found hers and she gazed imploringly into Merlin's deep blue ones, and then she said only two words: "Remember me."

Merlin's whole countenance softened for a brief moment. "I will  _always_  remember you," she promised, "but there's not going to be any need, since I'm going to find out what's really behind this plague. I won't let them kill you, Gwen, I promise."

Gwen wished she could have had as much faith as Merlin, but she was beyond help now and the King was beyond reason. But she couldn't help but feel a very faint flicker of hope spark inside of her as Merlin removed her hand and practically ran up the stairs.

* * *

The first place Gaius and Merlin thought best to start at was the source of all the water in Camelot, which led them underground to the water supply.

"There's no use sulking about it," Gaius had said, "what is done is done. The best you can do now is help prove Gwen's innocence."

And you could bet your ass that Merlin was going to do just that.

"The water from here supplies the whole town," Gaius was telling her as she lit a torch to guide them down to where the water collected. "I'm going to need a sample if we are to find a cure to this disease."

Merlin didn't offer any words to that, choosing instead to simply comply to his words as she handed the torch to him as she pulled a small bottle from her medical bag to kneel down and scoop a decent amount of water into it before straitening up to put a stopper on it.

"That enough?" Merlin asked as she held it up to Gaius.

"For now," Gaius told her, holding the torch aloft. "Now, let's take it back and examine it."

They both turned to head back towards the entrance to the underground water supply when a sudden splash of water and a cry of some unknown creature had them turning back to see what was, and Merlin couldn't help but gape at the sight of it, because she had never seen anything so grotesque.

It was malformed and brown, dripping of the water it had exploded out of and bearing sharp and chipped teeth. It released one short cry before ducking down into the water once more and disappearing from view.

"What in the name of—?" Merlin ran back to look into the depths of the water, but she could see no trace of it. "What  _was_  that?"

"That," Gaius said, appearing as though he had been suspecting this to be the cause of the plague, "I believe is the source of this illness. Come, Merlin, we need to go. We don't want to be here when it comes back."

And Merlin reluctantly conceded. The creature was rather large and Merlin's control over her magic wasn't as great as she'd like it to be, so she held her silence until they were back in the Court Physician quarters, and then she broke the silence.

"Are you going to tell me what the ruddy hell that thing was?" she demanded as Gaius began rifling through a number of his books in search of one page in particular.

Gaius held up one finger for silence and Merlin scowled briefly as his finger trailed down page after page until it came to a stop and he spoke.

"Here it is," he said, "what we saw was an Afanc."

"An Afanc?" Merlin repeated the foreign word, pronouncing it carefully before leaning across the table to glance over the tome, disregarding the upside-down words as she focused on the picture which was roughly identical to what they had seen not even moments earlier. "And what's an Afanc? A creature of magic?"

"Very much so," Gaius said. "It is a beast born of clay, and conjured up only by the most powerful sorcerer. Now we have to find a way to defeat it. But where?"

"Can't we just stick a sword in its side?" Merlin offered.

"And risk it making the death that follows the plague more instantaneous?" Gaius asked looking quite grim.

"Just a thought," Merlin muttered, "doesn't it say in there?" She nodded towards the book in Gaius' aged hands. "How to defeat the Afanc, I mean?"

"No," Gaius said regretfully, glancing back down to the thick tome in his hands, "I'm afraid it only has the physiology of magical creatures and what it takes to make them."

" _Great,"_  Merlin said, her tone quite dry. "And how are we going to find one bit of information in a whole bloody library before Gwen's execution?"

"I'm always open to suggestions," Gaius said, quirking an eyebrow at her and Merlin couldn't help but frown.

There was option that was open to them, open to her. She hadn't been down to see the Great Dragon in some time and dragons were very well-known for being wise. Surely he was the only option open to them at this time.

Merlin glanced towards Gaius, but his back was to her, looking through another book and by the time he turned around, she had gone and the door was swinging in her wake.

"Merlin?" he called, but she was long gone, leaping down steps so fast that several servants had to careen out of the way, a few shouting at her to slow down as she passed, but she ignored them.

There was someone she had to see.

* * *

Kilgharrah was a very old dragon filled with knowledge and hate that had simmered beneath the surface due to his captivity for years upon years. He had contented himself with the knowledge that he would never escape from the underground cave when a girl had stumbled upon him.

She was small, smaller than Balinor had been, and Kilgharrah could see her father's spirit resonating within her. And she was a creature of the Old Religion, her magic glowing a bright gold that only Kilgharrah could see. She was someone who could release him from his constraints, if he played his cards right, to use the human saying.

"Er, are you awake?" Merlin called cautiously into the darkness, the cool wind fluttering the flames of her torch as Kilgharrah descended from where he had been nestled to stand on the rocky formation in front of her. "I guess that's a yes."

The dragon released an ancient chuckle. "It is indeed a yes, young Warlock. And I see you had returned, as I knew you would."

"I'm never going to understand dragons," Merlin muttered to herself, and Kilgharrah pretended not to have heard her. "I'm sorry," she said louder, "but you do have a name don't you? I can't just call you 'the dragon,' it's just a little strange for me…"

Kilgharrah doubted she knew of just what asking him his name meant, an exchanging of names indicated a bond of trust shared, but they were both of the Old Religion, and perhaps that was enough.

"I am called Kilgharrah," he said.

"Kilgharrah," Merlin repeated the name slowly as she looked him straight in the eye, a great feat when one considered just how fearsome the dragon was. "There is a plague that is being caused by an Afanc…do you know a way to defeat one?"

Kilgharrah blinked his beady golden eyes at her for a long moment. "Trust the elements that are at your command."

"The elements at my command?" Merlin repeated, completely befuddled. "What do you mean?"

"It means, young warlock," Kilgharrah said with an air of great patience, "that you cannot do this alone. You are but one side of a coin. Arthur is the other.

"You have  _got_  to be  _joking_ ," Merlin said with a bit of a sigh. This was just like when the dragon had told her about two months back that Arthur was going to grow into a great king, and Merlin was still doubting that.

"I do not joke much," Kilgharrah told her, more to remind her that he was still there.

Merlin tried hard not to roll her eyes but it was a very near thing. "Right, I'll keep that in mind for next time." She waved her torch carelessly in her hand, almost resulting in it toppling out of her hand and down into the lower regions of the cave (but then, she wasn't quite well-known for her grace). "See you, Kilgharrah."

Kilgharrah couldn't quite describe what he felt at hearing another being use his name, but it was not a feeling he would soon forget as Merlin rushed up the stairs and back to the Court Physician quarters to search through the books for something on elements.

And when Gaius descended from his room the next day, it was to see his ward collapsed on the books piled in front of her, her face pressed to the parchment, her arms curled around the book she was using as a pillow.

"How late did you stay up?" he asked and Merlin jerked herself awake, staring blearily in his direction, a red splotch covering a good portion of her face from resting it on the book.

"Oh, I dunno," Merlin said with a yawn, rubbing at her eyes to clear the sleep from them. "Late, I suppose."

"And what is it that you were so frantically looking for?" Gaius asked as he joined her.

"Nothing much," Merlin said in a faux-careless manner, "just a book on elements is all."

"A book on elements?" Gaius repeated and she nodded. "No wonder it took you so long. The study of base elements is at the very heart of the scientific process. You'd be hard-pressed to find a book that doesn't mention them at least once."

"Ah," Merlin said with a wide grin, tapping her index finger against the parchment with a grin. "But I've found the only one that matters, see. The Afanc is composed of clay and water, which equates to earth and water."

"Two of the base elements," Gaius agreed, seeing where she was going with her train of thought.

"Exactly!" Merlin was positively beaming. "And listen to this:  _'that which it is composed of cannot aid in its defeat, only that which opposing that which creates it can destroy it.'_  Isn't that great? It means we just need wind and fire to kill it!"

Gaius read over the passage briefly before fixing her with an unblinking stare that Merlin found a bit unnerving. "How did you think of the elements as being the key to destroying the Afanc?"

"Oh, er, it just came to me," Merlin invented wildly. "I figured if it's made from the earth, then it might be capable of being destroyed…I was a bit off…"

The door into the main quarters banged open as Morgana swept inside, her tears red from crying, her hair hanging loose, but still looking better than Merlin who had barely slept.

"They're bringing forward the execution," Morgana said, her fear evident in her voice and eyes. "We have to prove Gwen's innocence!"

"We're trying," Gaius told her.

"Please," Morgana insisted, "please, just tell me what I can do to help."

Merlin contemplated her briefly, Kilgharrah's voice echoing sharply in her ears.  _"_ _Y_ _ou cannot do this alone. You are but one side of a coin. Arthur is the other."_

"We're going to need Arthur," she said suddenly. "Can you convince him to come?"

"Arthur?" Morgana repeated the name skeptically, wondering just why he would be needed. "Why?"

"The thing that's causing the plague is a monster called an Afanc, it's been poisoning the water supply," Merlin explained. "If it's killed the plague will disappear."

"Well, we must tell Uther," Morgana said, making to turn back towards the door, but Gaius' next words stopped her.

"The Afanc's a creature forged by magic. Telling Uther wouldn't save Gwen. He'd just blame her for conjuring it," Gaius replied.

Morgana couldn't deny that. She knew all-too-well how much the king hated magic. "So what are we to do?" she asked a bit helplessly.

"We'll have to find the creature and destroy it ourselves," Merlin said with contemplation. "If the plague disappears while Gwen is in the dungeon then she can't be blamed for conjuring it in the first place."

"Which is why you need Arthur," Morgana said with a nod.

"We don't know how strong the Afanc is," Merlin said, tapping the hilt of her blade with her hand. "And I'm nowhere near as good with a sword as him…can you convince him?"

Morgana's eyes gained a steely glint as Gaius handed the keys to the water supply tunnels to Merlin. "Leave that to me," Morgana said, turning on her heel and racing out of the room.

Time was of the essence, after all.

* * *

"You better be right about this, Merlin."

"And if I'm wrong?" Merlin arched an eyebrow at Arthur who tossed a scowl her way that was no doubt meant to threaten but it didn't faze Merlin in the slightest. "What're you going to do?"

"Make you clean the stables for a month."

" _Oh, the horror,"_  Merlin mocked. "Don't worry, I'm not wrong. It burst out of the water when Gaius had me take a sample; believe me, it's down there."

Arthur grabbed one of the torches, as did Morgana, and the three of them descended into the dark underground. The wind whistled around them, but even that couldn't hide the guttural growl that echoed in the silence. Merlin stiffened, Arthur looked wildly around, and Morgana released a short gasp.

Merlin pulled her sword from its scabbard, the flames reflecting off the metal, much like Arthur's, which had been out since they crossed the courtyard not moments earlier.

Arthur turned slightly to give Morgana a look that was almost firm in appearance. "You should stay here."

"I'm coming with you," Morgana disagreed.

"No."

Morgana's eyes narrowed slightly and her lips pulled upwards slightly into a smirk. "Scared I'll show you up?" she asked.

"Father will slam us  _both_  in chains if he knew I'd endangered you," Arthur said and Merlin stood a bit awkwardly to the side, not quite knowing if she should direct them back to the task at hand or not.

"Well, good thing he doesn't know about it, then," Morgana said in a mild voice, her eyes daring him even in the darkness.

"I'm telling you," Arthur said, straining to keep his control over his temper, "Morgana,  _turn back_ , you could get hurt."

"And Merlin won't?" Morgana demanded, jerking a hand towards the maidservant who hadn't yet said a word and blinked at having her name mentioned.

"Merlin's not the ward to the King, and she's got a sword!" Arthur replied.

"Gee, Arthur," Merlin said dryly, "I didn't know you cared."

"You—" He pointed a finger at the dark-haired warlock, "—be quiet, and you—" he pointed at Morgana "—stay behind me—"

"Don't hurt yourself," Morgana said, ignoring his order entirely as she moved past him. "How are we going to find it?"

This question was directed to Merlin who had followed after her with Arthur pulling up at the rear, muttering obscenities.

"I suspect it'll be close to water," Merlin said, "that's where it was when Gaius and I saw— _mmph!"_

Morgana looked back in time to see Arthur silence Merlin's flow of speech with his hand as he looked feverishly around.

"Did you see it?" Morgana asked quietly as he released Merlin who was now looking rather distinctly annoyed.

Arthur expelled a low breath. "No, it was just a shadow."

"We'd better keep moving," Morgana said before Merlin could snap something at Arthur that Morgana generally appreciated anytime but currently, and so the three moved forward as silent as they could manage until they reached where Merlin and Gaius had been before.

But there was no Afanc as far as Merlin could tell.

"Spread out," Arthur said quietly, and Merlin turned to take the south tunnel, but she had barely made it a few steps when she heard a wet and loud growl from the direction Arthur had gone off in.

Merlin rushed back to see Morgana already at Arthur's side and the prince looking a bit startled.

"What is it?" Morgana asked in concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Arthur managed to say, "fine."

"But you did see it, didn't you?" Merlin insisted.

"Oh, yeah," Arthur said grimly, "definitely. Couldn't have been anything else, but it's-it's quick."

Morgana gave a sudden scream as the Afanc made its reappearance, swinging her torch rapidly as Arthur tried to stab it, but it was too fast and fast, vanishing into the darkness once more.

"Arthur," Morgana said suddenly. "Where's Merlin?"

Arthur whipped around to see that his dark-haired maidservant had disappeared. "Great," he muttered before raising his voice,  _"Merlin!"_

And then there was the distinct sound of an animal-like yelp of pain.

"That way!" Arthur said, lurching towards the western tunnel to see Merlin to the ground, one of the beast's legs on her chest trapping her to the ground as she reached for her blade which was lying just out of reach from her bloodied arm. She'd clearly gotten one good stab in, if the blood oozing from its shoulder was any indication.

It leaned close to her, its sharp teeth intent on ripping through her when Arthur threw himself forward, taking a swing at it with his sword, causing it to lose its brief interest with Merlin, who rolled away. However, this cost him his sword, and Morgana's torch as well.

"The torch!" Merlin called. This was their last chance. "Hit it with the torch!"

And this time Arthur didn't ignore her, aiming a slice at it with the torch and Merlin's eyes glowed golden briefly as she uttered the spell.

" _ **Lyfte ic Þe in balwen ac forhienan,**_ **"**  she breathed and wind rushed past Arthur to force the fore from to the torch to the Afanc which gave a cry of agony as it was incinerated and Merlin slumped against the wall.

"Can I have a day off?" she asked weakly.

Arthur, regaining a bit of his wits, cried, "You've just had two!" as Morgana released a few shaky chuckles.

"I was working for Gaius," Merlin groaned as she sat up, putting a hand to her injured arm which was hot and sticky with blood. "That's hardly a day off."

"I think Merlin deserves a day off," Morgana said as she went to assist her friend in standing, "she helped to end this plague and free Gwen."

"Whose side are you on?" Arthur demanded.

"Not yours," Morgana retorted. "Never yours."

Merlin grinned widely.

And while the three headed back to the upper surface, a woman with cold blue eyes surveyed them through the water in her stone basin, her anger practically radiating from her.

"Merlin, you will pay for that," Nimueh, High Priestess of the Old Religion uttered, and the water trembled in the basin in response to her anger. "You will pay most  _dearly_ …"


	12. Effects of the Mortaeus Flower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…it's been awhile since I updated this fic, so I figured I might as well finish it and send it off since its been half-finished for about two months (I blame a combination of Looking Beyond and Biology class).
> 
> I know I was considering doing the whole 'Poisoned Chalice' chapter as one huge chapter, but I changed my mind, it's still in two parts like every other chapter.
> 
> Shout-out to ThatClinchedWriter for such a lovely review! Really, it's probably the best one yet! Concerning a possible interlude of those Merlin is telling the story to…the plan is actually to have an interlude chapter between series, so there will be one once Series One is done and one at the end of Series Two, and after Series Three is done, we'll be back into normal stuff.

Nimueh smirked in her garb as the handmaiden Cara to the royal house of Mercia. It had been far too easy to infiltrate the group traveling to Camelot for a peace conference to end a long war. It had been easier still to convince Merlin of the poison in Arthur's goblet had been put there by the King Bayard himself.

Now all she had to do was sit back and watch as Merlin took the goblet with a distinct glare towards Uther that showed so much contempt for the man that Nimueh was almost certain that it rivaled her own and raised it to her lips, swallowing one gulp of the drink, but it was more than enough.

It was like drinking fire, fire that burned from her lips down her throat to pool uncomfortably in her stomach. She gasped for breath and Arthur's eyes widened.

" _Merlin!"_

He barely caught her before she hit the ground, the goblet rolling out of her grasp, the poisoned liquid fanning out onto the ground. She was barely conscious, her eyes just slivers of dark blue.

Gwen squeezed between the guards who were now pointing their swords at King Bayard and his men so that she could crouch down with Gaius to inspect her fallen friend.

"Merlin? Can you hear me?" Gaius asked loudly, drawing at the skin around her eye so he could see the dilated eye more clearly. "We have to get her back to my chambers. Bring the goblet, I need to identify the poison."

Arthur nodded grimly, hooking one arm under her knees and the other to her back, lifting the slim young woman with ease as Gwen knelt to grasp the fallen goblet, the last of the poison sloshing within it as she followed after Gaius and Arthur, worry lining her face at the sight of Merlin's unmoving form.

They walked speedily towards the quarters of the Court Physician and were there faster than it typically took when walking from the great hall to there, though Gwen suspected that this might have had a little to do with her being distracted by Merlin.

"Lay her on the bed, quickly," Gaius nearly barked to the prince, "she's struggling to breathe." Arthur lay Merlin down as carefully as he could manage, as though afraid that if he jostled her too much the poison would act more quickly. "Gwen, fetch me some water and a towel."

Gwen rushed off to do as he asked and both Arthur and Gaius knelt beside the bed as Merlin breathed in short stuttering breaths.

"Is she going to be alright?" he insisted as Gaius felt Merlin's brow only to discover it was burning as though enflamed.

"She's burning up," Gaius murmured as Gwen returned and handed him the towel and bucket.

"You can cure her, can't you, Gaius?" Gwen pressed as Gaius wet the towel and pasted it against his ward's pasty forehead.

Merlin's eyes fluttered open slightly. The lights were so bright and the sounds echoed in her ears.

"I won't know until I can identify the poison," Gaius said shortly. "Pass me the goblet."

Merlin's head lolled in Arthur's general direction. She could barely make out the light color of his hair and the blue of his eyes. "Buck-ket," she gasped out, shocking all three who hadn't been expecting her to be lucid, let alone speak with such a dose of poison.

Then Arthur sprang to action, grabbing the first bucket he could find that wasn't filled with any sort of liquid, thrusting it to the space beside her just fast enough to cough out bile.

"Is the poison making her sick?" Arthur asked, worry evident in his voice.

"No, that's all Merlin," Gaius said, pulling her back to the bed, "she's buying herself some time by regurgitating what poison she can." He smiled at her. "Clever girl."

Her eyes were closed and her skin clammy but her lips twisted into a barest of smiles. "I do try," she rasped.

"Get her some water," Gaius told Gwen, as he moved back to examine the goblet, "there's something stuck on the inside…"

"How are you feeling, Merlin?" Gwen asked her friend in concern as she lifted her head slightly to help her swallow noisily.

"Like my insides have been burned by dragon-fire," Merlin rasped with difficulty.

She certainly looked it, Arthur had to privately agree. It seemed to take a great deal of effort to open her eyes even slightly and talking seemed to be just as difficult.

Looking at her just made him feel worse so Arthur moved to speak with Gaius, leaving Gwen to mop at her friend's sweaty forehead with a cloth.

"What is it?" Arthur asked. "Did you find something?"

Gaius pulled a rather transparent petal from the goblet. "A petal of some kind…I can't be sure of what exactly…"

"Her brow's on fire," Gwen mentioned from beside the bed. "Merlin? Merlin, are you still awake?"

"Mm," she mumbled.

"Keep her cool," Gaius warned, as Gwen pressed another wet rag to her forehead, "it'll help control the fever." He trailed a finger down the pages of the heavy tome he was glancing through, comparing the petal he was holding in his clippers to the ones of the flowers in the book. "Ah, here it is! The petal comes from the Mortaeus flower. It says here that someone poisoned by the Mortaeus can only be saved by a potion made from the leaf of the very same flower. It can only be found in the caves deep beneath the Forest of Balor. The flower grows on the roots of the Mortaeus tree."

Arthur frowned at the passage, tapping at the inked monster with the forked tongue on the page. "That's not particularly friendly," he mentioned.

"A Cockatrice," Gaius had to agree with him there, "it guards the forest. Its venom is potent. A single drop would mean certain death. Few who have crossed the Mountains of Isgaard in search of the Mortaeus flower have made it back alive."

It was a clear warning, if Arthur had ever heard one, and he certainly had, each from his father.

He looked to where Merlin lay, so pale that she almost seemed translucent. He complained about her so much but he would have never thought that she'd be willing to die for him; that was a side of her he had not expected.

Arthur looked down to the page once more, clearing his throat. "Sounds like fun."

"Don't," Merlin gasped from the bed, her eyes fluttering in an attempt to keep them open.

"You'd rather die?" Arthur demanded, glaring at her.

Merlin couldn't even manage a scowl in return. "Ther-re are better thing-gs to die f-for."

Arthur ignored that and he wasn't the only one. "What happens if I don't get the flower to her?"

Gaius' eyes fell to his ward, concern lining his aged face. "The Mortaeus induces a slow and painful death," he said quietly. "She may hold out for four, maybe five days, she may last longer since she regurgitated some of the poison but…eventually she will die."

* * *

Strangely enough, Merlin had never considered death, but if given a choice, poisoning would not have been the way to go. So when she opened her eyes to find herself in place quite unlike the one that had been in, she automatically thought the worst.

"No, no, no!" She said, looking around feverishly. "I can't be dead, I-I just closed my eyes—"

"What do you do, in your village, I mean?"

Merlin blinked as she turned on her heel to stare at the image before her. It was her, from two years ago, her eyes bluer and innocent and her dark tangled braid not as long and falling out of the plait that was flung over one shoulder as she picked at the berries nestling in the bush before them.

Percival was leaning against the base of a tree, cradling his own few berries.

"My father and I are blacksmiths," he told her, his deep voice resonating in Merlin's ears as her younger self contemplated the few-years-older man.

"Do you miss it?" she asked.

"Some days more than others," Percival said, glancing around the forest. "It is peaceful here, quiet…beautiful," his eyes had flicked briefly towards her at that, a movement that was not missed by Merlin, whose cheeks had burned bright pink. "But I will return."

Merlin's smile didn't falter, though it did become a bit sad. "I know…when are you planning to leave?"

"When I am healed," Percival said, "and when I've paid my debt."

"And you won't be able to until that wound's healed up," Merlin said lightly, lifting her canteen to her lips. "And it won't be able to heal unless you stop moving around."

A smile touched his lips, similar to the one that the current Merlin bore. That had been a good day. The infection on his wound had gone down so she'd taken him to get a bit of fresh air, and it had done them both good.

One of the village farmers, Andrew, was quite disapproving of Merlin using precious resources to heal someone who wasn't even a part of their village.

"My godfather used to meet me here when I was younger," Merlin said after a long moment, glancing around at the trees and the growing plants that flourished in the light that filtered through the branches of the trees. "I'd come and he would teach about flowers and herbs and show me which ones you could mix together, which ones were good and which ones were bad."

"He sounds like a good man," Percival said, watching how she smiled softly at the memory of him.

"Oh, he is," Merlin agreed with certainty, "but the village doesn't really approve of him since he's a Druid."

"That's a shame," Percival said with a frown. Druids had a habit of coming and going in his village, but they had never considered them to be as dangerous as most others thought them to be. The only Druids he had ever come to meet were ones who had a similar kindness to Merlin, though nowhere near as sharp a tongue or as fiery a spirit as the dark-haired girl possessed.

"Isn't it?" Merlin mused, spinning her finger into the earth, carving a Druidic Triskel into the dirt, hidden by the grass.

She had never understood as a child why she had had to hide her association with Iseldir just as much as she had hidden her magic and now that she was older, she understood even less.

Why did  _she_  have to hide who she was when no one else did? Why did  _she_  have to live a lie when no one else did?

"I'm sure you'll see him again."

Merlin's lips curled as she looked into his eyes. "I'm sure I will too…he liked to say the world is a constant circle…we always make it back to the people that matter in the end."

The people that matter had always been a strange way to put it, in Merlin's opinion. Why not say the people you love or the people you trust? But the people that mattered didn't necessarily fit into that category.

* * *

Arthur was furious as he threw open the double doors that led into his chambers and tossed his sword down on the table like a petulant child that hadn't gotten his way, but he couldn't help it, not after what his father had done.

First he'd refused him the right to search for Merlin's only cure, and then he'd ordered him to remain in the castle.

He was stung by how he'd said that her life was worth less than his, it was such a heartless thing to say about the woman who had just saved his life, and then telling him not to look when she died? That was…that was unlike anything he would have ever thought his father would say.

Arthur gritted his teeth behind his lips as he leaned over the fireplace, stilling wearing his chainmail, ignoring the heat of the fire.

If Merlin were here she would have made a joke about him wanting to roast alive if he stood close to a fire with all that metal.

But Merlin wasn't here and the king was denying him his only chance to change that.

He hardly noticed as Morgana quietly entered the room, her face set in a mask of seriousness as she tried to lighten the mood.

"Say what you like about the food," she said, startling him into turning to see her, "but you can't beat our feast for entertainment." Morgana tried to smile, but it didn't really come out properly; Arthur knew she was friends with Merlin too, but she was faring better than Gwen by far.

"Morgana," he said, turning away from her, his tone distracted, "I'm sorry, I should have made sure you were alright." Regretfully, he had actually forgotten all about his father's ward in the chaos and confusion concerning the poisoning.

"Disappointed actually," Morgana said lightly, taking a few more steps forward, "I was looking forward to clumping a couple around the head with a ladle."

Arthur's face formed into a rather dry expression as he turned to face her at long last. "I'm sure the guards could have handled Bayard and his men," he said decisively.

"Yes," Morgana couldn't help but smirk, "but why let the boys have all the fun?"

It was something like what Merlin would have said. Arthur wondered if she was being that way on purpose or if the dark-haired Physician-in-training was rubbing off on her.

"Morgana, you shouldn't get involved. It's dangerous," Arthur warned her.

"When did that ever stop Merlin," Morgana retorted easily, her eyes flashing dangerously in the firelight, making Arthur groan in exasperation; she knew just which points to press on to aggravate him, especially concerning the events of the night. "Save your breath and spare me the lecture, I've already had it from Uther."

"If it's any consolation," Arthur said, leaning his back against the side of the fireplace and looking to the ceiling, his lips set in a frown, "you weren't the only one."

"Not that I listened to him," Morgana added, seeing how his desire to help Merlin was becoming hopeless in his mind. "Sometimes you've got to do what you think is right, and  _damn_ the consequences."

Morgana had never been good at following the rules, but he had never had her try to convince him to go against his father's wishes; of course, he had never particularly had the desire to do so before, so the need had never arisen. Morgana was the clever one, not him, but even he knew that getting out of the castle would be no easy task.

But it wasn't just about him.

"You think I should go?" he asked her in all seriousness.

"It doesn't matter what I think," Morgana remarked coolly, gazing at him with eyes that dared, dared him to do better and be better.

The likeness between her and Merlin were startling (for all Arthur knew they could have been half-sisters and Merlin was just the bastard).

"If I don't make it back, who will be the next king of Camelot?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing as he held his arms by his sides, giving her his complete attention. "There's more than just my life at stake."

There was the line of succession to think about. As much as his father was wrong about things, the one thing he wasn't wrong about was that without Arthur, Uther wouldn't have an heir.

"And what kind of king would Camelot want?" Morgana asked, quirking an eyebrow as she tilted her head slightly, her carefully crafted curls falling over one shoulder. "One that would risk his life to save that of a lowly servant?" She pulled his sword from its sheath to hold it flat against her palms as she held it out to him. "Or one who does what his father tells him to?"

In the end, Arthur already knew his decision, and he grasped the blade from Morgana.

"You know he's not going to be happy with either of us," he said as he bound his sword to his waist.

"He's never happy," Morgana responded dryly, as if it wasn't much of a break of character, which it wasn't. "Besides, what's the worst he can do to either of us?"

Arthur wasn't sure the worst his father could do, but he was sure that he might get inventive…maybe even throw Arthur in the cells for a few days to relieve him of his tendencies to disobey authority (though that seemed unlikely to work).

"Can you distract the guards for me?" he asked her and he almost regretted it with the feral grin she gave him in reply.

"It would be my pleasure," she said before striding out of the room.

Time was of the essence, Arthur knew, and his maid-servant's life was hanging in the balance.

* * *

"How is she?" Leon asked as Merlin slowly came round, everything around her fuzzy.

"She had a few fits in the night," Gaius said gravely, sighing deeply, "but she is resting peacefully now."

"Fits?" Gwen sounded nervous and apprehensive, her voice coming out a bit like a squeak. "What do you mean?"

"It's her body's way of fighting off the poison," Gaius explained, "she is doing better than I expected, better than I hoped, but she's been training to be a Physician most of her life, it's possible she exposed herself to a part of the poison at some point and has built a resistance against that part as a result."

"That helps us doesn't it?" Gwen asked eagerly.

"Yes, it does," Gaius had to concede, "her immunity will slow down the poison but it won't stop it completely…and it's still progressing faster than I would like."

"What does that mean?" Leon demanded.

"It means…its possible an enchantment was used during its preparation to increase its potency," Gaius murmured more to himself than the other two as he glanced over the words in one of his books on the poisonous flower.

"An enchantment?" Gwen's lips automatically formed into a frown at the thought of magic. "But Bayard's no sorcerer."

"No, he isn't," Gaius agreed, "and even if he was, he wouldn't have had the kind of power to perform such an enchantment."

"Who does?" Leon asked, his eye falling to his friend. Her skin had taken a sickly grey sheen that told of just how ill she was. Her breaths were shallow, her chest only rising so far, as it taking a deep breath would hurt too much, which was very likely given her condition.

Realization struck Gaius. "It can't have been," he said, again speaking more to himself than the other two. "She wouldn't _dare_  come here. Unless..."

The image flashed before his mind of Merlin lagging behind to point one of the servant girls in Bayard's company up the side staircase that led to the company. The girl had given her a thankful smile before she had taken the staircase.

"Unless what?" Gwen pressed. "What is it, Gaius? Have you remembered something?"

"What happened to that girl?" Gaius asked.

Leon glanced towards Gwen. "Which girl? There were many at the banquet."

"Just before Merlin burst into the hall one of Bayard's serving girls took her outside," Gaius explained, "it was the same one that asked her for directions to the chambers Bayard and his company were staying in."

"She had dark hair," Gwen recalled, "and blue eyes…very beautiful." Her eyes shifted to Merlin who shared those characteristics.

"Find her," Gaius ordered, "quickly."

Gwen stood quickly when Merlin made a noise as she inhaled through her nose quickly and all eyes flashed to her, but she barely roused.

"Go," Gaius said, "Merlin is in safe hands."

Gwen nodded reluctantly before tearing out of the room to search the dungeons for the girl she knew in her heart was responsible for Merlin's current condition.

"Should you really be here, Sir Leon?" Gaius asked the knight. "I'm sure the king will need all his knights."

"He will," Leon agreed, "however, the king is distracted by his son disobeying him, I'm not sure any of our presences would soothe the troubles of his mind."

"You can do no more help here," Gaius reminded him patiently. "Merlin will not get better simply by us wishing it."

"One could…hope," Merlin rasped and both men started.

"Merlin!" Gaius cried in relief and even Leon smiled.

Her eyes were barely open, but that dark impossible blue could not have been mistaken peering from under her sweaty locks that were quickly pushed to the side.

"How do you feel?" Gaius asked and her eyes drifted out of focus.

"Merlin?" Leon asked this time.

"I was…dreaming," she smiled, and Leon knew he'd never seen her smile like that before. "It…was nice."

Gaius didn't bother asking her who she was dreaming about; she had never really given him a straight answer before concerning the letters she got by raven at random intervals of time.

"Yes, but how do you feel?" he asked insistently.

Merlin's lips drew downwards as she forced her mind to clear. "Burning," she finally said, "…from the…inside." The feeling hadn't changed much in the night.

"Is that normal?" Leon asked in worry.

"Nothing about this is normal at all," Gaius admitted. "The burning sensation is not doubt caused by the poison, just as her fever was…it probably spread upwards when she forced a bit of the poison out, which is why it's so painful to talk."

Merlin's eyes slid shut, but Gaius could tell that she was still awake as he lifted the back of her neck, helping her swallow a few gulps of water.

It was barely moments later that Gwen entered in a rush, breathless and flushed from running to the dungeons and back.

"Did you find the sorceress?" Leon asked immediately.

Gwen shook her head feverishly. "No, no one's seen her since the banquet. Who is she?"

"Not who she claims to be," Gaius said shrewdly, replacing the damp cloth to his ward's forehead. "She told Merlin her name was Cara. Though, that's not her name. Not her real name, anyway. She is a powerful sorceress."

"Fooled…me," Merlin whispered.

"That's not your fault," Gaius reprimanded her lightly. "I knew her once, I should have been able to recognize her."

"Merlin!" Gwen uttered in relief at the sound of her friend's voice, falling beside her in relief. "You're awake!"

Merlin's lips twisted. "…Worried?"

"Of course I'm worried!" Gwen retorted passionately.

"We may have another problem," Gaius said after a short moment.

"Other than a sorceress on the loose?" Leon asked sardonically.

"Yes," Gaius said, his tone betraying just how serious the matter was. "She knows the only place an antidote can be found is the Forest of Balor. Arthur could be walking into a trap.

That boded ill for Arthur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the inclusion of Leon into the people huddled around Merlin's sickbed, I really like him as a character, and I enjoy writing his sibling-like relationship with Merlin


	13. A Cure For A Servant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, it's been awhile since I updated this fic, but I was struck with a brief bit of inspiration, seeing as my birthday was the 26th and I was trying to update several fics at the same time (it didn't go so well, but the fics have at least been updated, so there's that)
> 
> I've probably been destroying you all with how long I've waited to update this fic, so sorry about that, but enjoy the chapter!

" _You are more special than you realize."_

Merlin remembered the day her mother had told her that. She had been young and wide-eyed and irritated beyond belief. Her mother had seen her practicing her magic, as Iseldir had always told her to –magic was like any other muscle in the body, it needed to be strengthened from use– and had been so angry with her.

The young warlock had burst into tears at being berated in such a way, not understanding why she needed to hide who she was; she wanted to use magic in the free air, not hidden in the forest as if such an act was criminal!

Her mother had given her a sad smile and tried to smooth the tears rolling down her cheeks, but Merlin had shied away from the touch, not really understanding the warnings her mother and Iseldir had given her at the time.

It seemed so foolish, her anger at her mother for smothering her, and it was only much later that she understood truly why Hunith had fought to keep her safe.

Merlin remembered a time when Iseldir had taken her with him and his tribe as they journeyed through the White Mountains.

"Beyond the mountains lies the Valley of the Fallen Kings," Iseldir had told her, "and just beyond that lies the Isle of the Blessed."

"The Isle of the Blessed?" Merlin had asked curiously, her fingers playing with the buds of a blue lobelia she had been unearthing with his careful instruction. "What's there?"

"Currently nothing but the Old Religion…magic, Merlin, pure magic." Iseldir's eyes had glowed slightly and Merlin's entire face had lit up. "It is a place of solitude and silence…and it is not a bad place to learn to harness ones skills in the magical arts."

"Are there books there?" Merlin asked eagerly, bouncing on her knees at the merest idea of books on magic.

"Perhaps," Iseldir said evasively, "but those that train there go on to become High Priestesses…very powerful figures in the Old Religion…perhaps it would be too challenging for you?"

Iseldir's eyes glinted as Merlin's round cheeks had flushed with color.

"Of course not!" Merlin cried stoutly. "I'll be one, one day, a High Priestess, just you wait!"

And Iseldir had given her a smile that made Merlin feel as though he was very proud of her response, and that by itself brought an incredibly bright smile to her face.

* * *

The next day Morgana came with Gwen to see to Merlin's condition, and the lady's face fell at the sight of her friend.

Merlin seemed to have worsened in the night, going off of how Gwen had described her to appear when she had pressed her for information.

The dark-haired girl appeared to be asleep, or perhaps she had merely fallen into unconsciousness, it was difficult for Morgana to tell. The sickly grey of her skin was more pronounced than before and she breathed in and out shallowly. The only contrast on her flesh was a red rash spread over the side of her neck and visible along the length of her arm.

Morgana privately thought she looked to be someone who was on their deathbed and she had to wonder just how much time she had left before the antidote would have no effect.

"How is she?" Gwen asked as Morgana stood in silence, sitting beside her friend and laying a hand gently against the hand that was resting against Merlin's slowly rising chest.

Gaius replaced the wet cloth on his ward's forehead, pushing her hair aside when it fell in his way.

"She took a turn for the worse in the night," Gaius said somberly, sitting down heavily on Merlin's opposite side. "The increased potency by enchantment was greater than anticipated…she seems to be fighting it off best when she's asleep. I've been giving her something to keep her under."

"Is that wise?" Morgana couldn't help but ask.

"Perhaps not," Gaius had to concede, "but she'd be in too much pain otherwise…its best to leave her as she is."

A crease formed between Merlin's eyebrows, her thoughts miles away, trailing after Arthur as though flying through the air on a bird's wings above.

His chainmail clinked as he moved and Merlin saw he'd forgone his crimson cape that was typical of the Knights of Camelot. He led his horse with one hand, taking purposeful steps through the forest.

Arthur didn't see the creature hidden in the darkness underneath a canopy of fallen trees, but Merlin did.

"What're you thinking, you idiot?" she demanded, standing beside him frowning in irritation only to start suddenly when he turned suddenly, his eyes sweeping over her general direction.

Merlin clapped her hand to her mouth before whispering. "You can hear me?"

But then he turned back around, leaving Merlin a bit confused. It was obvious to her that she wasn't actually there; she was back in Camelot dying of poison. So perhaps she'd found a way to separate her spirit from her body and therefore appear where the prince was. But how could he sense her presence when she was little more than a wisp of wind?

"If you can hear me…scratch your eyebrow."

Arthur did not do so, however, he did wrinkle his brow slightly as he drew out the man and Merlin overlooked his shoulder, her eyes falling to the parchment that Gaius must have given him while she was out of it.

"You're the most foolish prince I've ever had the misfortune to meet," Merlin berated him, taking full advantage of the fact that he couldn't really hear a word she was saying. "What's going to happen you get yourself killed trying to find this flower, hm? I reserve the right to say I told you so when we meet in Avalon!"

Arthur gave no notice that any of this concerned him.

Merlin sighed. "It's the right fork, idiot."

The blonde-haired man rolled up the map once more and strode forward, taking the right path as she had instructed, even if he hadn't really heard her.

They walked for a stretch of silence, mostly owing to the fact that Merlin had run out of insults to throw at the prince and was currently sulking over spending her last day in the world invisible.

The trees became denser and the fog that had been lighter when they had first begun had gradually thickened and became a bit opaque that even Merlin in her ghostly form found it difficult to see.

Merlin had never been to the Forest of Balor, but it certainly gave off an ominous feel.

Arthur descended through it, horse and Merlin in tow and gradually the fog faded back once more and that was when Merlin saw the figure huddled over a broken log.

It was a woman with a head of dark hair, not unlike Merlin in that aspect. She wore a long red dress and her shoulders shook as she cried softly, hugging one arm which bore light claw marks as from an attacking beast.

Merlin recognized the face instantly as that of the servant named Cara, the one who had told her about the poisoned cup.

Anger flared inside her as she jabbed a finger in her direction.  _"You!"_  she snarled as Arthur tied his horse on a nearby tree and moved forward in concern. "Don't tell me you're falling for that injury?" Merlin in turn demanded of Arthur. "I mean look at it! That barely counts! It's obvious she was the one who made those cuts! They're far too neat to be the product of a beast!"

Arthur knelt beside her. "Are you alright?" he asked her and Merlin cursed his chivalry, just this once, especially when the woman gave a scream as the Cockatrice made itself known.

Merlin doubted she'd ever seen such a creature before in her short life. It was vaguely reptilian with sort of fins that fanned out on either side of it as it moved. And it was moving forward steadily as Arthur warned the woman back, pulling his sword free.

It was only once he had his back to her that the woman –Cara– turned towards where Merlin's spirit stood, and Merlin knew at once that she could see her just as Arthur could sense her.

 _Oh, Merlin,_  she crooned in Merlin's mind in a way that was so sharply intrusive that Merlin had to grip her head tightly to alleviate the painful throbbing,  _so close to death and yet still you cling to life. You will not last much longer…and neither will he._

 _Who are you?_ Merlin demanded, still managing to glare despite the pain resonating in her skull.

 _I am Nimueh,_ the woman said, and her eyes gleamed a bright luminescent gold.  _The last of the High Priestesses of the Old Religion._

The Cockatrice gave a cry ahead of them as Arthur threw his sword through the air to lodge in the fleshy part of its underbelly, killing it.

Nimueh stood and stumbled backwards, still giving off the impression of fear, as if she was worried that Arthur would then turn his sword on her.

Merlin hoped she could feel just how hard she was glaring at the back of her head.

A hand was extended in a peaceful manner that was surprising, given how much of a complete prat Arthur was on a general basis. "It's alright," he said, "I'm not going to hurt you…Who did that to you?"

He gave a slight gesture to the cuts and bruises on her upper arm.

"My master," Nimueh said quietly, and Merlin grumbled, though she did have to concede a human making the cuts was more likely than the Cockatrice. "I ran away from him, but then I got lost…Please don't leave me!"

Merlin wondered if Arthur was a sucker for big wet eyes, because it certainly seemed that way to her.

"I won't," Arthur promised. "I'm not going to."

"You can take me away from here?" Nimueh asked eagerly.

"Not yet," Arthur said, his eyes sweeping across the surrounding area to land on the cave nearby encrusted with ivy and overshadowed by ferns. "There's something I have to do first."

"Why have you come to the caves?" she asked curiously.

"Like you don't know!" Merlin complained, clenching her hands into fists and shaking them at her. "You piece of—"

"I'm looking for something," Arthur told her. "It can only be found here."

"What is it?" Nimueh pressed. "I know this place…I could help you."

Arthur considered her for a moment. "It's a type of flower that only grows inside the cave. It's very rare."

"The Mortaeus flower?" Nimueh was smiling and it sent a chill down Merlin's spine. "I know where they are. I'll show you."

Merlin groaned loudly as he followed after her. "Come on, Arthur! You can't just trust someone you've barely met! Look at her! She's  _obviously_  leading you into a trap!"

But Arthur had a nasty habit of going straight into danger and leaving Merlin to scramble after, so Merlin followed a bit mutinously after the pair right into the depth of the cave. The darkness around them made the glow of Merlin's form more obvious, even if it was only visible to her and Nimueh.

Their torches flickered in the draft from the cave before they took one last winding turn to come out in a gaping cavern. There was a narrow ledge barely connected to the opposite cave wall upon which several of the flower in question were littered across in abundance. Most were either too high or too low to reach, but there had to be at least one that he might be able to reach, if he stretched.

"There they are," Nimueh said, gesturing with her torch in the general direction of the flowers.

"Keep back from the edge," Arthur warned Nimueh after glancing down the side of the ledge over which Merlin's ghostly form was hovering, her legs crossed and her lips drawn in an annoyed frown. "Don't worry, we'll be out of her soon."

He missed Nimueh's smirk, but Merlin did not, and she readied herself for a fight, for she had a feeling that even though she had no physical form, her magic could be used with only her spirit.

" _ **Eorðe, lyft, fyr, wæter, hiersumab me,"**_  Nimueh whispered and Merlin growled at the meaning behind the words. She doubted she had enough energy in her current state to counteract the older woman's spell, but she could possibly slow it down by chanting in reverse.

" _ **Hiersumab me, Ic can stanas tobrytan,"**_  Merlin began.

" _ **He bæs frorw geband, weox under wolcnum,"**_  Nimueh's eyes flashed to Merlin's angrily.

" _ **Eorðe ac stanas hiersumab me,"**_  Merlin continued, her eyes glowing a bright impossible gold and Nimueh gritted her teeth together as the cave began to shake, torn between the two opposing powers.

" _ **Weorbmvnde bah Eorðe ac stanas hiersumab me, Ic can stanas tobrytan,"**_  Nimueh intoned, drowning out Merlin.

"What are you doing?!" Arthur demanded, struggling to remain upright before losing his grip on the torch that fell so deep down in the cavern that Merlin could no longer see its light.

" _ **Hiersumab me!"**_  Nimueh finished and the ledge crumpled away entirely so that Arthur had to lunge to the opposite cave wall in order to remain where he was and not fall to his death. He managed it, but just barely, Merlin could see, judging by how he breathed in and out sharply and with a bit of strain.

"I expected so much more," Nimueh said coldly, "your protector put up a much better fight."

Arthur didn't have much time to puzzle over those words.

"Who are you?!" he demanded instead.

"The last face you'll ever see," Nimueh told him, her blue eyes icy in the firelight as they drifted to the portion of the wall above Arthur's head and Merlin shivered at the sight of such a large spider with pincers large enough to make her uneasy. "It seems we have a visitor."

Arthur grunted as he attempted to edge away from the spider from the ledge he was still clinging to, but it was difficult work, and then the spider dropped down to his ledge.

Merlin looked down at her hands. The luminescent color of them was fading; she was nearly transparent. If she tried to use magic to save Arthur again, she could fade away entirely, and she didn't know if that meant returning to her body, or going…on.

But this time Arthur didn't really need her help. He clutched the ledge with only one hand, withdrawing his sword with the other and making a swipe at the spider that ultimately missed, but the spider didn't give up and neither did Arthur.

The spider made a lunge and Arthur batted it away with the sword, sending it tumbling down into the ravine. It made a small shriek as it fell and Merlin released a relieved breath.

"Very good," Nimueh said, as though praising him in a sarcastic manner, which seemed highly likely given her current attitude as Arthur tossed his sword onto the ledge and gripped it once again with both hands. "But he won't be the last. I'll let his friends finish you off, Arthur Pendragon. It's not your destiny to die at my hand."

 _Perhaps it will be yours, Merlin,_  her voice whispered in Merlin's mind.  _We shall meet again, next time as equals._

 _That's unlikely,_  Merlin hissed back and a small laugh parted from Nimueh's lips as she turned swiftly with her torch and left Arthur and Merlin in the darkness, ignoring Arthur's yell of  _"Who are you?!"_

But there was no answer.

"And this is yet another example of why you should have listened to me in the first place," Merlin muttered as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

Arthur would only be able to hold that ledge for so long, and eventually he would fall, without the threat of other spiders showing up…but it would be a bit hard for him to grasp anything to pull himself out if he couldn't even see where to grab anything.

Merlin wracked her brain…what was that spell? She'd learned it a few days ago…it wasn't as complicated as the one Nimueh had just performed, but it was still was a bit difficult to roll off the tongue.

Her sigh was loud and clear. "If you die for this," she told him even though he couldn't hear her. "I'm going to kill you."

" _ **Fromum feohgiftum on fæder bearme,"**_  she breathed, her eyelids fluttering as the color beneath burned gold once more and her strength slowly trickled away.  _ **"Formum feohgiftum!"**_

Her form warped into that of a brightly glowing orb that rose steadily into the air, illuminating the cavern just enough to give Arthur light to see.

Naturally, though, the first thing that slipped out of Arthur's mouth was: "Come on, then! What are you waiting for?! Finish me off!"

Merlin felt exasperated, but that was mostly a knee-jerk reaction to the Prince Prat.

She hovered above him and at long last, he pulled himself up, gasping, onto the ledge he had been clinging to so desperately. He replaced his sword, preparing to climb further when her light fell upon the flowers growing in a small tuft not far away.

He was unbelievable! Nearly dying and still refusing to leave without the twice damned flower! Even with spiders crawling up towards his position.

Arthur reached and missed the flower several times before managing to snag it and place it carefully in the pouch before clamoring up the wall after Merlin's orb.

And then Merlin was floating up and up and all she could see was white.

* * *

Merlin could feel the sunlight on her face more than anything else, and then she felt the weight of her limbs, as though Arthur had made her put on armor once more (but ridiculous armor that didn't fit her in the slightest).

There was a downright terrible taste in her mouth and her lips were dry. Her eyes felt as though they were sewn shut, but she forced them open as much as she could manage, despite the sunlight glaring.

"Ah, you're awake!"

Merlin blinked blearily as Gaius' face swam into her field of vision. His eyes were soft as he took the seat beside her. "How do you feel?"

"Ghastly," Merlin rasped as her uncle helped her sit up slightly, helping her take a few gulps of water.

"At least your humor is intact."

Merlin arched an eyebrow. "How bad was it?"

"You almost didn't make it," Gaius said somberly, checking her pulse for an erratic heartbeat. "You were barely breathing when we got you the antidote, and then you slipped into a healing sleep. That was five days ago."

Merlin blinked and stared at him in incomprehension. "Five days?"

"Indeed," Gaius said. "Gwen and Morgana have been in to visit, Sir Leon as well, and Arthur once he was let out of the dungeon."

"Dungeon?" Merlin said blankly, not understanding what he was talking about. "Why was he in the dungeon?"

"Uther was not pleased with his son disobeying his orders," Gaius told her, "he locked Arthur up upon his return; Gwen had to sneak out the Mortaeus Flower in order for me to concoct an antidote."

Merlin winced at that. "How is he?"

"Better than you're doing," Gaius said, looking her over, "but you've healed a great deal."

Merlin closed her eyes, breathing in an out deeply, raising a hand with difficulty to her throat, massaging the skin there.

"M'tired," she murmured, which was crazy even to her, since she'd been asleep for more than five days, but Merlin could barely keep her eyes open.

"Oh, not so fast, you need to eat something before you go under," Gaius warned, but he still only managed to force a few gulps of broth down her throat before she fell asleep once more.

When she awoke Arthur was by her side and it was the strangest thing to Merlin, mostly because it didn't really seem like something he would do.

"Do princes visit their maidservants after near-death poisonings?" she asked suddenly and he jerked at the noise, making her smirk.

"You're  _so_  funny," he sniped back, but she could see the relief on his face, and it took away some of the bite.

"It's one of my finer qualities," Merlin agreed, raking a hand through her hair only to discover it had been hastily re-braided into a messy plait. Her other hand moved pinch the fabric of his tunic's sleeve between her thumb and forefinger, pulling his attention to her face.

"Thank you," she said simply, "for saving my life…I know I didn't really want you to, but thank you."

Arthur shrugged it off as if it was nothing and both of Merlin's eyebrows rose. "Yeah, well, it was nothing." He almost sounded embarrassed. "A half decent servant is hard to come by. I was only dropping by to make sure you're alright. I expect you to be back to work as soon as possible."

She tilted her head. "Whatever you say…what's that?"

"What's what?"

Merlin's eyes narrowed this time. "I may be on several potions that dull the mind but I'm not stupid, Arthur. What. Is.  _That?"_

She was pointing a finger at a long package that Arthur had clearly been intending on leaving behind and making a fast getaway before he could explain it.

"Er…it's your sword," he said, holding it out to her, and Merlin took it flummoxed, removing the wrappings to see the metal beneath.

The only thing she recognized was the hilt, which had been the same since the day Percival had crafted it for her. The blade itself was far sleeker and slimmer than the clumsy blade she remembered.

"Gwen's father re-forged it," Arthur said. "Think of it as a thank you for saving my life."

"You didn't have to," Merlin said a bit weakly, trailing a few fingers over the new blade that suited her slender form better just as Arthur's wide blade suited his broader body (though most people were broader when compared to Merlin).

"Just take it," Arthur said, sounding half annoyed and half exasperated.

" _Fine_ , I will!" Merlin retorted.

"Good!"

" _Good!"_

Arthur stormed off and Gaius shook his head at Merlin.

"I swear the pair of you are children who can't agree with each other and when you do, you're thrown off balance."

"I am  _not_  a child!" Merlin insisted, incensed by his words. "But he sure is!"

Gaius muttered something under his breath as he left Merlin on her own.

"Gaius! Come  _on!_  You cannot think  _I'm_  a child, I mean –Hey, Gaius, are you listening to me?"

Why did Hunith send him her too-willful daughter, again? Gaius couldn't quite recall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene with Merlin yelling at Arthur in spirit form was inspired by YuYu Hakusho, wherein the main character finds themselves dead and still tries to communicate with the living.
> 
> I know it's been awhile, but hopefully this lived up to all of your expectations.


	14. To Be A Knight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully we'll be done with Series One by the time the year is out (as I've recently become reobsessed with Merlin), which means theoretically I'd have to write 14+ chapters, but once we get through that, 2x01 will show Merlin and Percival meeting for the first time in about two years (if that's the correct timing), and after 1x13 I might do an interlude with present day…that's still up in the air.
> 
> I'm also considering a Morgana redemption in Series Five…but we'll see how that goes.
> 
> I wanted to get 'Lancelot' over with quickly because it wasn't one of my favorite episodes (neither was 'Lady of the Lake'), but we'll see how that goes.

Merlin drew the lavender stalks carefully from the earth, placing them gently into the basket beside her which held both the lavender and the white-petaled flower, feverfew. There was more lavender growing inward in the forest, but Merlin had been warned not to wander too far.

She was still recovering from her poisoning, after all, and Gaius didn't want her to push herself too far (it had been quite amusing to watch her uncle berate the prince, warning him off of making her do too many chores for him for the next day or two). Besides, if she had wanted to go any further, she would have had to bring her sword, which she'd left at her bedside that morning.

Apparently she'd greatly impressed the knights, if Leon was to be believed. After all, not that many servants would take a cup of poison for a prince.

Merlin hummed softly to herself as she pulled up another sprig of lavender only to be noisily interrupted by the loud shriek of an unknown bird. She stood and twisted around to see the creature in question and she positively gaped.

It was a bird, at least part bird, but far too massive to be just a bird. Merlin had never seen anything like it, and Merlin had seen a dragon.

Now arose the problem; the bird-thing was rushing right for her.

A startled noise escaped her lips as she stumbled backwards before breaking into a run, chancing a glance behind her as it gave chase, unfortunately, that cost her dearly and she tripped over a root, leaves tangling in her long plait as she attempted to scoot back.

Surprisingly, a figure leapt into action, rushing before her with a sword in hand, swinging it towards the creature which gave another loud shriek, though the attacks seemed to have little effect on it and a savage strike towards its beak shattered the blade.

"Run!" the stranger yelled, grabbing her arm as she pulled herself to her feet, yanking her after him.

The creature was nearly on them as they raced through the trees, smacking against branches before ducking sharply over a fallen tree, hiding in its shadow as the bird-thing leapt over them, flying up and into the sky.

Merlin groaned, leaning heavily against the log. "It hasn't even been a week and already something's gone wrong."

The man beside her released a short chuckle. "Are you always like this after nearly dying?"

She looked to him. He was a young man with loose dark hair and scruff at his cheeks, chin, and mouth. He wasn't unattractive, she supposed, but he wasn't her type.

"Worse, usually," she admitted, pulling a few stray dried leaves from her hair. "I'm Merlin, by the way, I hope I don't sound ungrateful for you saving my life."

"You don't," the man assured her, "I'm Lancelot."

Merlin frowned, looking at him closer now, seeing the bead of sweat at his brow and the damp stain at his side only a split second before his head lolled back against the tree.

The warlock lifted the tunic slightly to expose the wound, which looked worse than it really was, if you asked her.

She sighed, her eyes glowing brightly golden briefly, summoning her horse, Triton to her side.

Triton was one of the calmer steeds of those in the stables at the castle, but he only seemed to be well behaved when Merlin was around, but a lot of the horses only seemed to behave when she was around. Arthur called her 'Horse Whisperer' saying that all those times she'd had to muck out the stables had clearly earned her a bond with the horses (Merlin just rolled her eyes at that).

Triton nickered softly as he made his way towards her at a light trot before coming to a stop in front of her.

Merlin grinned widely; he was carrying her basket between his teeth.

She kissed his nose, taking the basket. "I owe you three apples," she promised before nodding her head towards the unconscious man slumped on the ground. "We're taking this one with us."

If Triton was less than pleased, he gave no indication.

* * *

"I see you're feeling better."

Lancelot had been gazing out the window of Merlin's small bedchamber when she entered bearing a bowl of porridge and he looked towards her, surprised by the interruption.

It was the girl from the day prior –Merlin, his memory supplied–, long dark hair in a tight braid, fringe falling in her deep blue eyes. There was a faint smile on her lips as she held the bowl out to him and Lancelot found he hadn't noticed previously that she was wearing a tunic and trousers with a neckerchief around her throat and cylinder of metal dangling from one lobe.

"Yes, I am," he said quickly, "thank you."

"It was nothing," Merlin said, waving a careless hand as he took the bowl gratefully from her.

But Lancelot knew it wasn't nothing, he had seen where the wound had been before and there wasn't even a mark.

"I see the knights have started their routine," Merlin mused, taking note of his attention out the window.

"Yes," Lancelot said, turning his attention back to the window as he spooned porridge into his mouth, watching the knights with a bit of envy.

"What is it?" Merlin asked, pulling her legs up to her chin as she sat in the chair by the bedside.

"Ever since I was a child, I've dreamed of coming here," Lancelot admitted with a half-smile as he turned towards her once more. "It's my life's ambition to join the knights of Camelot."

"I know what you're thinking," he added quickly before Merlin could even speak. "I...I expect too much. After all, who am I? They have their pick of the best and bravest in the land."

"Lancelot, I wasn't going to say that," Merlin released a small laugh, surprising him.

"You weren't?" he asked.

"I've seen knights in action," Merlin told him, "I've been to more tournaments than I ever've wanted to go to and I've been to every knight training session that Arthur's had, I've even trained with the prince himself."

Lancelot's eyebrows rose high on his brow. "You have?" Where he came from, the idea of a woman fighting alongside a man wasn't just uncommon, it was unheard of, yet here was Merlin, a young woman wearing a tunic and greaves with a sword resting against the wall.

She smirked. "My first day here I dropped him on his ass," she said proudly, "you should've seen it."

"Besides," Merlin added before he could come up with an appropriate response to that, "the prince has been complaining for the past few weeks about the lack of talent in the most recent recruits, some fresh blood might do the Knights of Camelot so good."

"It will?" Lancelot asked, a light gathering behind his eyes that reminded Merlin of someone else who had a desire to become a knight and was similarly hindered by his common blood.

"Trust me," Merlin's eyes glittered as she grinned. "You'll impress them."

"How can you be sure?" Lancelot asked, dark eyes searching her face.

"I'm friends with one of the knights, and I happen to be Arthur's maidservant," Merlin replied, raising her nose in the air in a sort of affronted expression. Lancelot gathered that she wasn't much a fan of being a servant. "I'm also the apprentice to the Court Physician, but that's a minor detail."

"Minor detail?" Lancelot asked with a wry tone of voice.

"Well, obviously it's not  _minor,"_  Merlin admitted, scratching her cheek with one finger, "it's my whole reason for being here, but it's not important at the moment…come on, you can come down with me and see the knights in action. I usually take the knights some water, anyways."

Not ten minutes later Lancelot found himself impressed by Merlin's ability to balance a circular tray at her hip carrying a large jug and several empty tankards with ease as she stood beside him, watching the scene before them intently.

Prince Arthur himself was quite distinguishable with blonde hair, even without Merlin pointing him out as he stood in front of what must've been the newest recruit who wore a tunic of dull violet and a crest Lancelot was unfamiliar with, as opposed to crimson and the golden lion of Camelot.

"Right, you jumped up dung beetle, this is it," Arthur said and Merlin snorted beside Lancelot at the insult. "The final test. Pass this and you're a knight of Camelot, fail…and you're no one. You face the most feared of all foes, the ultimate killing machine."

"Now that's laying it on thick," Merlin sniggered beside him.

"You face me," Arthur continued. "You're challenged to last one minute of free combat. Grummond, second son of Wessex, your time starts now."

"Will he win?" Lancelot questioned Merlin, nodding towards the competitor, who happened to be a bit muscular and was swinging to and fro as a showcase of skill.

Merlin shook her head, her long plait rippling at the movement. "He's overcompensating, a better warrior knows to hide their strengths in the presence of an opponent."

Lancelot arched an eyebrow, but he did not comment on how Merlin had learned such a thing, after all, she was the one who had been in the presence of dueling knights for perhaps months.

Grummond kept twisting the swords in front of him before coming to a stop before Arthur (perhaps he had been trying to eat up some time, Lancelot considered, taking note of the sand falling in the hourglass), giving a short yell and throwing a strike towards Arthur that was neatly ducked and a swift knee to the head had him collapsed on the ground.

"Told you," Merlin said impishly and Lancelot gave her a smile in return, joining in the cheers from those surrounding the arena.

"Merlin," a voice remarked to their left and Lancelot glanced up to see a knight with curly ginger hair and bright eyes. The man spared Merlin a fond smile without even a glance towards Lancelot. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"Why, Sir Leon," Merlin spoke in a daring manner, eyes narrowed and lips smirking, "are you _insinuating_  that I don't have enough strength to carry a tray of tankards and water?"

"Is there a right way to answer that?" the knight responded easily, eyes shining in the sunlight, his lips curling upwards into a smile. Lancelot suspected that this was the knight that Merlin had said to be friends with.

At first he had thought that strange. A knight and a maidservant being friends? He had never heard of such a thing, but perhaps things in Camelot were different.

He watched as Arthur leaned down to remove the former knight-to-be's flag that he had worn at his waist.

Leon took a tankard from Merlin's tray, filling it with ease and taking a generous gulp.

"Probably not," Merlin admitted, squinting her eyes until they were blue slits as she considered him. "Are you alright, Leon? You look a little flushed."

Leon was fair-skinned, though not nearly as much as Merlin, so the color wasn't nearly so obvious on him as it was on her.

"Just a small stomach bug," he assured her, "I've already been to see Gaius."

"If you're certain," Merlin remarked swiftly before striding off towards Arthur and Lancelot's eyebrows rose further still at the sound of her berating him with snark evident in her voice. Even stranger was the tone he responded to her with which held similar sarcasm.

Camelot was strange indeed.

* * *

Merlin was a lot of things, and willing to bend the rules was included in that category, something Gaius was fairly against. No matter what Gaius thought, she wasn't helping Lancelot for herself, it simply wasn't fair that one had to be born into a noble family in order to become a knight.

She'd get into the bit about it being male-exclusive at a later date.

The ability to become a knight should matter less of the circumstances of one's birth and more on their present abilities.

So…Merlin may have used a small spell…Copying the crest of the House of Northumbria, changing the inked words on the parchment to "Lancelot, fifth son of Lord Eldred of Northumbria".

"Don't look so worried," Merlin admonished as she pulled her new friend through the streets, "the seal of nobility is only to get you into training, after that, you're on your own."

She was decent at swordsmanship, but nothing compared to a master (and Merlin would never ever say those words aloud concerning Arthur; Gods above knew his ego didn't need to inflate further). After all, one could only get so far without a master to aid them; it was one of the reasons Iseldir had taken Merlin under his tutelage as a way for her to learn the healing arts.

"Where are we going?" Lancelot asked flummoxed as they were buffeted by the crowds of people at the marketplace.

"What, did you think anyone was going to take you seriously wearing that?" Merlin quirked a dark eyebrow, smirking for good measure towards the young man. "Maybe if you were a servant."

Lancelot was getting used to her dry wit, and it certainly was refreshing.

"Wait here," Merlin told him as they came to a stop in front of a small cottage. Lancelot barely had time to comply before she rapped sharply on the door and entered once it opened.

"I need a favor," Merlin said before Gwen could say anything.

"A favor?" Gwen asked in surprise as she clicked the door shut behind her friend. "What is it? Are you having trouble with the workload?"

Merlin positively sagged at that. Everyone had been treating her like she was as fragile as glass since she'd started work again.

The only one not falling into that category was Arthur, which was something she was grateful for, for the first and only time in her life, she was sure.

"No," she nearly grated, "the workload is fine, it's something else… I need help sneaking a commoner into knight training."

Gwen's eyebrows rose high on her forehead and her brown eyes widened at her friend's words.  _"What?"_  she managed to force out, mouth gaping just slightly.

The whole story came out when Merlin dragged Lancelot himself into the cottage, and Gwen found herself smiling.

It was so like Merlin to help someone she'd barely met (she had saved Arthur's life, after all, the very day they'd met). But forging a seal of nobility was a bit daring, even for her.

Gwen took his measurements in silence, as they had come to her so she could sew up a tunic that bore the crest of Northumbria.

Merlin swung her legs from where she sat on Gwen's table, something that earned her a reproachful glance once Gwen had finished her measurements, and Lancelot was careful to stay very still.

"This," Lancelot forcibly cleared this throat, glancing away from Gwen and Merlin arched an eyebrow at that; now that was something curious to take note of, "This is very kind of you, er…"

The hint towards her name was not missed.

"Gwen," the darker-skinned girl supplied for him.

"Gwen," Lancelot repeated.

"Short for Guinevere," she said with a smile as she stood, measuring the length of his arm.

Lancelot gave a small chuckle of understanding. "Ah, then, thank you, Guinevere."

"Don't thank me," Gwen countered quickly, ducking her head slightly. "Thank Merlin." She nodded towards her blue-eyed friend. "Merlin would do anything for anyone, wouldn't you, Merlin?"

"Occupational hazard," Merlin replied with a sheepish smile. "Helping people is what I do best…even if they don't want it."

Her words had drifted off, tainted with mutiny that made Gwen smile, knowing just what she was referring to.

"I think it's great that Merlin's got you this chance," Gwen continued, skating over the fact that it wasn't strictly legal, in a sense (or in any sense, as Gaius would say) as she measured around his throat. "We need men like you."

Men who proved that you didn't need noble blood to be a knight, to serve and protect Camelot.

"You do?" he asked quietly and she noticed how his eyes fixed on hers and a faint blush spread over her cheeks.

"Well, not me personally," Gwen floundered and Merlin hid her smile behind her hand, "but, you know…Camelot." She latched onto Camelot like a lifeline. "Camelot needs knights. Not just Arthur and his kind, but ordinary people, like you and me."

"Well, I'm not a knight yet, My Lady," Lancelot said and Merlin grinned silently at his confidence; maybe they could pull this off after all.

"And I'm not a lady," Gwen countered easily, smiling and releasing a few giggles.

Merlin's smile faltered slightly, recalling words of a similar nature.

_"What's your name?"_

" _Percival, and yours, Milady?"_

_"Oh, I'm not a lady at all, I'm just Merlin, its, er, nice to meet you, but, er, I have to go, I'll, er, check in with you soon."_

Watching how Lancelot and Gwen were reminded Merlin of Percival, and how far from her he was.

In all the letters they'd exchanged, neither had once mentioned the kiss between them and sometimes Merlin wondered if that was all it had been, a simple kiss. But then she knew all too well the dangers of being with someone like her. And the fondness that he still held for her was clear in how he wrote to her.

"Merlin? Are you all right?" Gwen's eyes were concerned when Merlin jerked her head up, her cheeks pinking when she realized she had both their attention.

"I'm fine," she insisted, "you just reminded me of someone I haven't seen in awhile, that's all."

Lancelot's brow creased in confusion but Gwen smiled knowingly.

* * *

Lancelot had been certain he had failed.

He had played the part, presented the seal, worn the armor, but then he'd been sent to the stocks. He was sure that meant he hadn't made an impression on the prince, despite the encouraging glances from Merlin and Gwen.

But after an impromptu battle with brooms, Arthur had qualified him for training, and then the warning bell had tolled and both men darted out of the stocks and for the village square.

Merlin and Gaius were easy to make out amongst the crowd of injuries.

"Hold still!" Merlin barked towards a man whose leg she was holding carefully. It had been terribly broken and if not set would result in the man becoming a cripple.

There was a crack and a yell of pain as Merlin successfully splinted the limb before examining the man's arm which bore claw marks.

"I need bandages!" she yelled and one of the palace servants ran off, reappearing a few moments later.

He had never seen her and Gaius in action, but it was clear that caring for others was something she was good at. She moved faster than her mentor, though that had more to do with her body being less worn by age, he suspected.

"What happened to these people?" Lancelot asked as she helped a woman sit on the steps who seemed to mostly be in shock rather than injured terribly.

"Their village was attacked by a winged monster," Gaius answered swiftly, turning back to his charge, missing the glance Lancelot and Merlin shared, and then Merlin's eyes went wide, fixing on someone beyond his shoulder.

"Amena?"

Lancelot twisted to see a woman wearing threadbare clothes with hair a shade of auburn that he had yet to see.

"Milady," the woman rasped, stumbling towards Merlin and the dark-haired girl grasped her elbows before she could sink into a bow. She treated Merlin as if she was nobility.

"Amena, what happened?" Merlin demanded, eyes searching over the woman for any injury, but there didn't seem to be any.

"The creature…it couldn't be stopped…" Her eyes were wide as she clutched tightly to Merlin's arm. "Iseldir—"

Merlin's voice strangled and Lancelot caught a flicker of fear in her eyes. "Iseldir's not…dead, is he?"

She shook her head. "But he's in a bad way, as are several of our company."

Merlin stiffened. "Not…Caedmon?"

"No," Amena said quickly, "not Caedmon…but our only healer is deeply wounded…will you not help us, Lady Merlin?"

"Of course I will," Merlin said, sounding insulted. "Gaius—"

"Merlin," Gaius spoke her name reproachfully, knowing full well that the woman clutching his ward was a Druid.

"Don't tell me not to go," Merlin snapped. "They deserve healing as much as anyone here."

Gaius heaved a heavy sigh, glancing from her to the terror-ridden woman. "I will tell Arthur you are tending to those too injured to travel," he decided.

"Thank you," she breathed in relief, tugging the woman in the direction of the horses.

"Who was that woman?" Lancelot asked once she'd gone.

Aged eyes fastened on him. "A Druid in need of help."

* * *

Iseldir roused himself slowly, his dream fading and his awareness coming into sharp relief.

There was something cold and wet on his brow and something warm against his hand, and then there was the dull throbbing that seemed to cover his body.

He opened his eyes finally, blinking a few times to clear his vision and then his eyes flitted towards the owner of the hand that held his. Merlin was nestled at his bedside in what appeared to be a very uncomfortable position, dark plait hanging over one shoulder, neckerchief absent from her neck and instead bound over her brow to keep the fringe at bay.

She blinked blearily when he moved slightly and then she smiled blindingly. "You're awake!"

Merlin pressed a kiss to the back of his hand like her mother had done once when she had fallen ill before replacing the wet rag on his forehead. "Your old age is making you foolish," she informed him reproachfully, "taking on a creature that can rip through you?"

He smiled, closing his eyes briefly.

"The children you protected are fine," Merlin added, casting him an exasperated look that he missed with his eyes closed. "Caedmon is fine, only a few bruises, and Fama just has to wear her arm in a sling for a few days."

The lines of his face relaxed at that and then he opened his eyes again, his face slate serious.

"You should not be here," Iseldir said, his voice coming out as a croak.

Annoyance flickered in Merlin's eyes and her lower lip jutted out just slightly, an old childhood habit that she was working hard to break.

"Amena came to get me after the clan was attacked," Merlin said, not even bothering to counter his words. "You had taken a turn for the worse by the time we arrived…you almost  _died_  Iseldir."

The Druid Chieftain seemed remarkably unperturbed by that knowledge, an attitude that had always greatly irritated Merlin.

Iseldir made to sit up, but Merlin pushed him back gently.

"No moving," she warned, "that's a serious wound you've got and I'll not have you messing up my work."

The creature had ripped through skin and muscle but its claws, thankfully, had not damaged the organs underneath. Skin and muscle repair was hard enough without adding organs to the mix.

"You should be in Camelot," Iseldir told her, eyes unwavering as they met hers, his almost a silver color.

The certainty in which he spoke was only slightly unnerving.

"Why?" Merlin asked suspiciously. "What do you know?"

"Many things…Lady Merlin."

Merlin positively sagged at the use of 'lady' in front of her name. She had gotten used to the Druids and their respectful nature towards her, even if she didn't really understand why.

"Are you going to tell me?" she inquired. "Or simply be cryptic?"

Silence was her answer and she scowled for good measure towards the Druid.

"You are the least helpful godfather I could have ever had," Merlin told him shortly, loosening the knot of her neckerchief and retying it loose around her throat, her eyes flashing gold briefly and Iseldir felt the dull throbbing of his wound disappear (though he doubted it would remain that way for long).

Her fingers reached up to rub at the single earring and Iseldir did not miss the movement.

Iseldir's eyebrows drew together. He had never asked her about it, or the vambrace she wore around one arm, or the clumsy sword she had carried –one he now saw was better suited for her slight frame–and he didn't know why she'd been quieter than usual in the months following her sixteenth summer.

But he wasn't going to mention any of that.

She was so very like her father.

"Take care of him, will you?" Merlin asked Amena once she ducked out of the makeshift tent. "I know you all like to move around, but consider staying here for a week at least."

"Thank you," was all Amena said, pale from stress and gripping her son's shoulders as though his presence grounded her.

"It's no problem," Merlin assured her with a kind smile. "Your clan is important to me; you all helped me become who I am. And if you ever need anything, you only have to ask."

She ruffled Caedmon's tousled curls affectionately and the boy couldn't help but blush.

"Are you coming to visit us soon?" he asked her.

"I might be a little busy," Merlin said, the smile becoming brittle. "Days off are hard to come by…but we'll see."

It was just short of a promise and Caedmon would take it.

* * *

"What in the name of the gods happened while I was gone?" Merlin demanded, aghast at what Gwen had told her concerning Lancelot, of his fate in the dungeon.

"Well," Gwen gave a small grimace, "Lancelot made it through training with no trouble and he was knighted, but early this morning they found out about the forged seal of nobility and he was thrown in the dungeon."

Merlin swore under her breath, making one of the senior servants walking past them give her a glare.

"You don't think they'll execute him, do you?" Gwen asked fearfully.

Merlin wanted to say "No, of course not" but she doubted that the king would be lenient with a commoner who'd lied in order to become a knight. This was, after all, the very same man who would see her kind slaughtered merely for existing, no matter their peaceful nature.

"I have no idea," she opted to say instead, before branching off in the direction of the dungeons. Getting past the guards was no trouble, she'd been doing it with ease for months.

"Lancelot!" she whispered, grasping the bars, looking inwards.

Lancelot was sitting on the small cot, looking as she had when Merlin had left; wearing sturdy greaves and a worn white tunic that was more grey than white.

"Oh, Lancelot," Merlin murmured, her brow resting against the cool metal of the bars. "This is all my fault."

"You're not to blame," Lancelot countered swiftly, pulling him upright and moving until he was opposite her.

"It was my idea to sneak you into training," Merlin retorted.

A few of his fingers brushed against hers, giving them a comforting squeeze. "The choice was mine. The punishment is mine to bear, and mine to bear alone."

Merlin looked upon him in fond exasperation. "If I'd been here—"

"There's nothing you could've done to help me," Lancelot disagreed, "besides, someone needed you more than me."

Merlin blew out a puff of air but she couldn't disagree with him there.

"Did you save your friend?"

Her lips twisted upwards in the corner. "Yes, he'll be fine in about a week…and so will the others who were injured."

"I'm glad," he said with a smile that was far too genuine to be faked. "You're a good person, Merlin."

"Says the man who's in prison because of said good person."

The sarcasm was evident.

"Don't worry about me," Lancelot said, the firelight from the torches reflecting in his dark eyes, giving them an odd light. "And don't blame yourself…the prince is probably looking for you."

Blue eyes widened and Merlin swore once more in a manner that earned her a raised eyebrow from her friend.

"Oh, he's going to kill me!" she bemoaned, gripping her face with both hands before tearing out of the dungeon with a hasty farewell.

She took the steps two at a time, diving around several servants and almost falling three times before she reached the right floor and then she raced across stone, rounding the corner quickly.

"There you are!"

A small squeak –traitorously– parted from her lips and she reeled back, trying to make a quick escape when two arms grabbed her before she could make her getaway.

"Oh, no, you don't!"

Merlin yelped as she was lifted to be slung over Arthur's shoulder like a sack of flour.

"What the ruddy hell d'you think you're  _doing?"_  she demanded, her face coloring bright red in embarrassment.

"What do you mean what the hell am I doing?" he snapped back. "You know my servant's been missing for the past day?"

A growl escaped her at that. "I was off doing my job, _Sire_ , you know, the one that involves taking care of  _injured and ill people_? Where the hell are you taking me?"

"Gaius needs to see you before he speaks with my father," Arthur told her shortly over his shoulder.

Merlin winced as the chainmail pressed against her stomach. "This is by far the worst position I've ever been in," she declared sullenly.

"I'm sure," Arthur retorted dryly.

" _It is!"_  she exclaimed, curling her hands into fists, stopping just short of beating at his back to get him to release her when he set her on the ground suddenly.

"Merlin, there you are!"

Merlin rounded in the opposite direction to meet Gaius' wizened expression.

"Gaius—" A stretcher carrying a knight garbed in crimson was rushed past them. "I've missed a lot, haven't I?"

Arthur spared her a glower and she ignored it, choosing to scrutinize his face instead. He had a slice to his jaw and a bruise on his cheekbone that seemed likely to have been caused by his own sword and shield.

" _Ow!_  What're you  _doing?"_

Merlin had grabbed his face, examining the slice closely before releasing him just as quickly.

"Just a flesh wound," she decided before giving a jaunty wave and turning on her heel to join her uncle, ignoring the annoyed huff made towards her.

"Is this about Lancelot?" she asked as she came to a stop in front of him before following after him in the direction of the council chamber.

"This is an entirely different matter," Gaius informed her, extending a thick tome, opened at a certain page. Merlin didn't bother looking over the words when there was an image that had been inked across the page, a very familiar image.

"This is—" she started, eyes widening slightly.

"It is the creature," Gaius agreed with a sharp nod. "I hadn't considered looking in the myths."

Merlin arched an eyebrow. "This creature has never been seen before?"

"No," Gaius said as the double doors opened to permit the king and his son within.

"It's still out there," Arthur was telling his father.

"Let's not wait for it," Uther concurred. "The kingdom has been menaced by this creature for far too long. We finish this now."

"Sire, if I may?" Gaius interjected, causing the pair to turn towards the Court Physician and his ward, the ward who was studiously keeping her eyes down, reading the words on the page in an effort to ignore Arthur and his father.

"Gaius?" Uther asked.

Gaius took a few steps forward, though still remaining at a respectful distance. "I've been researching this creature, Sire. I believe it to be a griffin."

"A griffin?" the king asked, clearly unfamiliar with the creature's species. "What's in a name?"

Merlin's eyes widened slightly as she read the passage silently.

_The griffin is said to be nothing but the creature of the Old Religion, conjured forth by the High Priestesses of old. It has a form that is half from a lion and half from an eagle. Invulnerable to mortal weapons, it can only be killed by magic._

"The griffin is a creature of magic," Gaius said, his voice making his resignation plain towards Uther's attitude towards magic.

His eyes grew cold. "I don't have time for this, physician."

But Gaius blazed on, impressing Merlin as she lifted her gaze from the book to look between the king and her uncle whilst Arthur frowned in contemplation. "It is born of magic, Sire," he insisted, "and it can only be killed by magic."

"You are mistaken," Uther disagreed. "It's a creature of flesh and blood like any other. Arthur proved that today."

"I'm not so sure, Father," Arthur countered quickly, raising a hand lightly to his sliced cheek. "I think there may be some truth in what he says."

"What truth?" The king scoffed.

"The griffin was unharmed, Sire." Arthur's eyebrows drew together in the memory of the attack. "Our weapons were useless against it."

Gaius' eyes shifted to Merlin's, giving her a significant look that couldn't have been missed, and Merlin remembered her first run-in with the griffin that had caused Lancelot's sword to fragment.

"Useless? I think not." Uther turned away and Arthur glanced towards Merlin briefly, too short for her to read his expression. A frown marred her lips. "No, it's tasted our steel once, the next time will be its last. When will your knights be ready to ride again?"

Merlin watched Arthur flounder. They had already been bested in one bout with the beast, and he clearly wasn't ready to send them out again.

"An hour," he said finally, "maybe two."

"Good. We finish this tonight."

And then they all swept out council chamber, leaving Merlin and Gaius alone.

"Really, the foolishness of Uther has reached a new high," Merlin finally uttered, shaking her head as they took the side entrance out into the corridor.

"Uther is blind where magic is concerned," Gaius had to agree with her there as they took the staircase up to the Court Physician quarters.

"Well, he's completely mental if he thinks anyone has a chance of killing the griffin without magic," Merlin said once the door was shut behind her. "Of course, I always think he's completely mental, so that's not really different."

Gaius cast a reproachful look towards his ward, but she missed it completely, opting instead to rifle through the pages of the book she was still holding.

But he couldn't fault her for feeling such a way towards the king. Really, it was remarkable that she could stand to look upon him without a hint of the anger boiling beneath her skin.

So many innocent and good sorcerers had died because of him.

"Magic is our only hope," he murmured aloud to himself.

"What in the name of the gods are you going on about?" Merlin asked, shutting the book swiftly with a bit of disappointment that it yielded nothing as to how to kill the griffin.

An aged eyebrow quirked and Merlin cottoned on.

"No," she said, shaking her head so fiercely that her plait whipped behind her. "You  _can't_  be serious! I'm a  _healer_ , Gaius! Healing and defense! Offensive magic isn't my forte and it's much more difficult for me to use! And look at the last warlock that went against it! Iseldir nearly  _died_  and his magic is much more powerful than mine!"

"If you do not then Arthur will perish," Gaius insisted, resting his hands against the table as he looked her in the eye. "I cannot save Arthur, it is not my destiny; it is yours."

Merlin pursed her lips together, raising her hands and curling them together into fists, words beyond her.

"You expect too much of me," she said at long last.

"My dear Merlin," Gaius said with a small laugh, "I fear you do not expect enough of yourself."

And then he held a book of old spells out to her and Merlin released an audible sigh, slumping into the seat as she found the spell he wanted her to use.

Her fingers ran through her bound hair, knotting into the long plait. "I don't think I can do a spell this powerful," she said, looking up beseechingly.

"Only you can," Gaius told her. "Here—" He grasped an old knife he used for cutting up herbs for potions and held it out to her. "Try. You have it within you, I know you do."

"That makes one of us," Merlin grumbled as she took the blade, holding it up before her eyes.  _ **"Bregdan anweald gafeluec!"**_

But the knife didn't change.

"See! I'm not good with this sort of thing!" Merlin threw down the knife angrily.

"No one gets it right on their first try," Gaius disagreed. "Don't give up, Merlin."

Merlin scowled at him, shoulders sagging, but she still picked up the knife and started again.

* * *

"Arthur just left."

"You're not helping!" Merlin sang, glaring daggers at the knife as though it was its fault that she was in this predicament.

"I don't want to rush you—" Gaius said as he gazed out of the window, watching as the knights left the lower town, heading out of Camelot entirely.

"Because when has rushing ever done anyone any good?" Merlin muttered to herself, her eyes flashing gold.

She released a hiss, clutching her hand as she dropped the knife. Her annoyance had transferred into heat and had given her a small burn.

"Great, just  _great_ —" she drawled when the door into their chambers burst open suddenly and Gwen followed after, her hair flying from the rush and her cheeks flushed.

"Merlin!" She came to a sudden stop, speaking breathlessly. "Lancelot's riding out to kill the griffin!"

" _What?"_  Merlin positively gaped at her, slack-jawed for a few precious moments before grabbing her jacket and sword and leaping over a chair in her haste to leave, ignoring the call of Gaius.

"You just get out of prison and you think the best way to stay out is to kill a creature that can't be killed with a mortal blade?" was the first thing out of her mouth when she found him at the Rising Sun's stable, saddling up a horse that she was pretty sure didn't belong to him.

"You can't stop me," Lancelot countered, not looking up from his task.

"Oh, just because you've never seen me use a blade doesn't mean that I can't, thanks though."

"That's not what I meant," Lancelot sighed.

"You can tell me what you meant on the way, then," Merlin said shortly.

"You're not coming with me!"

"Oh, yes I  _am!"_  Merlin snapped. "Who else is going to keep you and Arthur from losing your heads completely?"

Lancelot opened his mouth to say something, only to abruptly shut it, a conflicted expression on his face.

"Triton!" Merlin whistled sharply, the noise piercing the air as the horse –all the way in the royal stables– made its way down to where they were (though a bit of magic might've helped him along).

"I'm going," she said, hoisting herself up into his saddle in one surprisingly fluid movement. "You can come too if you want."

"Are you always this difficult?" Lancelot asked, pulling himself onto the back of his own horse with an exasperated expression present on his face.

"Oh, my friend," Merlin smirked widely and even in the darkness her eyes glittered, "you've only begun to discover how difficult I can be."

She clicked her tongue and for a moment Lancelot swore he caught a reflection of gold in her eyes before her horse took off, but it must have come from the flames of the torches.

He put it out of his mind as he followed quickly after her.

It wasn't all that hard to find the griffin, mostly since the sound of a bird's screech, metal against metal, and the yells of men were only coming in one particular direction.

Lancelot sped forward in front of Merlin and she moved slightly to the side in her saddle as his lance came close to her, but then she was distracted by the sight of the bodies.

Merlin was off her horse in seconds, moving to the first body she saw, but it was too late.

One, two, three…they all seemed to be dead of the patrol that had gone out, all except—

"Arthur!"

His closed eyelids fluttered at his name and his pulse was strong. "He's alive," she said as Lancelot came up beside her. "He's only been knocked out."

A bit of a lucky shot, if you asked her.

The griffin's shriek startled them, echoing high into the air and making it impossible to pinpoint just where it was, until it landed in the clearing.

Lancelot was moving faster than her, grabbing his lance up from where he'd dropped it and riding his horse forward, but Merlin stayed where she was, hovering her body protectively over Arthur's.

" _ **Bregdan anweald gafeluec!"**_  Merlin managed to chant as the man with the armor flew right past her against the charging of the griffon, her eyes glowing a bright gold as the lance flamed a brilliant blue, unmistakable in the darkness.

The lance struck true and the griffon gave one last screech as it fell.

Merlin might have made a little jumping cheer, not that she would ever admit that to anyone.

* * *

"There is a small village beyond Camelot called Meldran, in Mercia."

Lancelot looked down to Merlin who had come to see him off. He had been given a pardon by the king at Arthur's insistence, but he was opting to leave anyways and begin again somewhere fresh. And with him he would take Merlin's secret.

Who would have thought the maidservant to the Prince of Camelot a sorceress?

But Merlin had a good heart and a good soul; he didn't doubt that she would use her powers for good.

"Is there?" he asked. "I've never been so far north."

Merlin rolled her eyes for good measure. "In the village there is a man who works at the forge…if you give him my name, he'll help you, as a favor for me."

Lancelot considered her. "You have very strange friends, Merlin."

"So people say," Merlin agreed with a smirk, extending her hand to grasp his arm as the knights did with each other. "Look after yourself, Lancelot, won't you? I don't have many friends, but they do seem to make a habit of finding trouble."

"I'll try not to," he promised with a laugh of his own. "In the mean time…keep yourself out of trouble."

Merlin shrugged her shoulders as she leaned back, away from the horse. "A girl with a sword and a witty tongue…who could resist a little chaos?"

Who indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, thank the gods, the chapter's done! This chapter practically sapped me of my writing ability. The next one will be shorter, I think, and one of my own imagination. It will be like chapter nine, in that it's a scene I'm adding into Series One that wasn't originally there.
> 
> I've got plans for its glory, it'll be great, just you wait.


	15. Siege From Within

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, this is a chapter I've really been looking forward to, mostly because I couldn't resist the whole Merlin and Morgana changing places, especially since I'm sure I was going to do it what with Morgana and Merlin's physical similarities.
> 
> This chapter was based off an episode of Reign when the castle was taken over by a man who had a grievance against the king…and of course how could I resist attempting to do my own version of it in this fic?
> 
> The plan for this fic is to do one chapter a week, but who knows how long that'll last? And I can only binge-watch so many episodes of Merlin before I get bored.

Merlin drummed her fingers against table, gazing around the library with interest, taking in the various titles of the books she could currently see.

"May I help you, Miss Merlin?"

The dark-haired warlock jumped wildly at the sound of Geoffrey's voice as he came around the corner, a small noise reminiscent of a squeak leaving her lips, and a hand shooting to her heart.

"Geoffrey, you startled me!"

Geoffrey smiled thinly. He wasn't quite as approving as Merlin, though Merlin suspected this had more to do with the fact that Merlin was the complete opposite of the typical female, what with her wearing trousers and tunics instead of dresses, and using a sword.

"Gaius sent me down for some books on medicinal remedies that he wants me to memorize," Merlin said, extending a scrap of parchment towards the man.

"Indeed," Geoffrey said simply, taking the list from her and surveying it through his spectacles. "One of these books is concerning magical remedies." His eyes fastened on hers, narrowing suspiciously.

Merlin, on the other hand, hardly blinked. "Yes," she said. "Gaius told me it's a book concerning the cures to illnesses inflicted by magic."

He took the response in stride, and Merlin relaxed as he stepped out of view. In reality she'd been trying her hand at forging Gaius' handwriting. She could probably have come back after dark to search for the books in question, but she was certain that Geoffrey might notice something amiss, so better to be upfront about it than be sneaky.

The book of magical illnesses was her true prize, but it was better to mask it within books of a similar nature, even though Gaius had the two other books in question.

"Here you are."

Merlin took the books eagerly only to grunt at their combined weight. "And when should I have them back?"

"Will a month be long enough?" he inquired.

"Plenty, I'm sure," Merlin said, attempting to position the books better in her arms. "Thank you," she added for good measure.

"Always happy to be of service," Geoffrey said as she made her way to the door, opening it with difficulty and making her way out into the corridor.

She released a sigh once she began to walk.  _In the clear…_

The castle was more deserted than usual, in fact, the whole kingdom was less defended than usual, a fact that Camelot was hiding from its enemies as best as it could.

Uther had ridden out with the majority of his men when a skirmish at Camelot's border with Cenred's kingdom descended into chaos. He had left his sulking son behind to act as regent in his place, and that had been more than a week previously. But hopefully the army would return soon so the overworked soldiers and servants that had remained would get some decent rest.

Merlin turned a corner and ran right into Gwen who was making her way down to do Morgana's laundry.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Gwen!"

"It's nothing," Gwen said quickly, sparing her friend a small laugh as she righted herself. "I think Arthur was looking for you."

"He's  _always_  looking for me," Merlin grumbled, more to herself than to Gwen, but the brown-eyed girl smiled. "I thought he was still in training?"

"Well, there's not much training to do when there are so few knights left in the wall of Camelot," Gwen reasoned. "Maybe he wants to work on your sword technique?"

It was no secret that Merlin trained with Arthur, in fact, it was probably a good thing that she'd learned a thing or two concerning the proper use of swords from the prince.

"Doubtful," Merlin muttered, "more likely he just wants to vent 'cause Uther left him behind."

"Better you than me."

Gwen grinned when Merlin spared a scowl towards her friend. "You are too cruel."

"You're resilient," Gwen responded, rolling her eyes for good measure, "I'm sure you can take it."

Merlin's lower lip jutted out slightly in a pout before turning on her heel and heading off in the direction of her and Gaius' quarters.

"Aren't you supposed to be with Arthur at this time?" Gaius asked when she stumbled through the door, maneuvering around the various obstacles (she earned a bruised shin for her efforts).

"I'm on my way," Merlin sang, tripping up the stairs to her room before dropping the books at her bedside table. She grabbed up her sword in its sheath, binding it around her waist as she moved down the stairs, wincing at the yell of " _MER_ LIN!"

"Keep your trousers on! I'm coming!" she shouted, reaching the door just as it swung open to reveal Merlin's irate master.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Merlin said before he could say a word, fixing the belt that the sword was attached to her waist, "but one day you'll be grateful for my head of medicinal remedies—"

"Merlin," Arthur spoke over her, "I need a favor."

She froze in surprise, staring at him for a long moment. "What?" she asked.

"A favor," he said shortly, shifting uncomfortably as Merlin and Gaius shared a look of confusion, because when was the last time that Arthur had asked for a favor? Merlin reasoned a very a long time.

"A favor?" she repeated dubiously.

"Are you deaf?" Arthur asked with a vein of annoyance.

"No, just surprised," Merlin said, "you aren't the type to ask for help."

Arthur ignored that jibe.

"I need you to pretend to be Morgana," he said instead, grimacing even as the words parted from his lips, as though he knew how ridiculous it sounded.

Merlin's mouth fell open as she gaped at the blonde-haired prince. "You want me to  _what?"_

* * *

They were all gathered in Morgana's quarters and Merlin was sitting backwards in one of Morgana's chairs, pressing her forehead down against the chair's back before lifting it to scowl at Arthur.

"Here's a great question:  _just how insane are you?"_

Arthur gave her a glare. "I'm  _not_  insane."

"You want me to pretend to be the  _ward_  of the  _king_ ," Merlin retorted. "How does that not count as insanity?"

"Well, you do look similar," Gwen had to agree with Arthur.

" _See!"_  Arthur jabbed a finger in Gwen's direction before gesturing towards Merlin. "You look similar!"

"We do look a bit alike," Morgana said with a smile, which only served to deepen Merlin's scowl.

"That's not the point," Merlin refuted, throwing a hand around carelessly, eyes narrowing. "You are asking me to pretend to be someone else, someone walks different and talks different and acts different—"

"For good reason!"

"You don't want to risk Morgana but since I'm a  _servant—"_

"That's not it and you know it!" Arthur snapped.

Gwen and Morgana shared an uncomfortable glance as the prince and maidservant glared furiously at each other before Merlin sighed.

"Who is he?" she asked.

"What?" Arthur balked at the sudden change in tone.

"There is a reason, I hope, that you want me to pretend to be the king's ward," Merlin responded archly, giving him a rather dry expression.

"He's the Duke of Lancaster," Arthur said slowly.

"Lancaster falls within Camelot," Morgana pointed out, crossing her legs where she was sitting elegantly.

"It does," Arthur agreed, running a hand through his hair, giving it a wild look that would have been more easy to overlook it if his hair was longer, but it wasn't. "But the Duke and Father have been having large differences of opinions over the past few years. It can't be a coincidence that he shows up when a majority of the soldiers, knights, and my father are gone."

Gwen could see her friend aggressively chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"If I do this, I get three days off and I get to pick the days," she said with finality.

Arthur spluttered at that and Gwen was starting to wonder if the prince could actually last a day without his maidservant tailing after him to make sure he wasn't going to get himself into serious trouble on his own.

It seemed a marvel that he hadn't been killed any time before Merlin's arrival in Camelot, though Gwen suspected that luck must have played a very important part.

" _Three days?"_  he demanded. "What—?"

"Three days," Merlin declared, crossing her arms, eyes unwavering as she met his aghast expression, "or no deal."

Morgana arched an eyebrow in clear amusement as she watched the older boy flounder and attempt to deny Merlin, but it was clear that he was on his last leg and since he did need Merlin and Morgana to switch places, he was going to have to deal with being Merlin-less for three days.

"Fine," he conceded, "three days, no more."

Merlin grinned widely, leaning back, conveniently forgetting that she was sitting on the chair backwards, so there was no back to catch her when she fell right off it, arms flailing before her backside met the ground.

Gwen smothering her giggles behind her hand, whilst Arthur rolled his eyes and Morgana cracked a smile.

The dark-haired girl pulled herself upright by grasping at the chair she had just fallen from.

"How long is it before the Duke arrives?" Morgana asked, turning her head towards Arthur who frowned for a brief moment, trying to remember the information that he had been given. "An hour at the least, at the most, maybe two."

"That should be more than enough time, don't you think, Gwen?" Morgana appealed to her maid who smiled eagerly.

"I should think so, My Lady," she replied just as easily, inspecting Merlin closely. "However, we are going to need a needle."

"A needle?" Merlin said flummoxed. "What in the name of the gods do you need a needle for?"

Morgana's grin became devilish and it sent a shiver down her spine as Arthur took the chance to make a quick escape out of the door which clicked behind him.

"You only have one ear pierced," Gwen pointed out, gesturing to the one from which her metallic earring hung. "Morgana has two."

Morgana was certain she had never seen the willful physician's apprentice so horrified.

"I think she's in shock," Gwen mentioned.

"I think you'd best go get that needle, Gwen," Morgana said, waving a hand in front of Merlin's face only to find the blue-eyed girl gave no response in return.

"Yeah…" Gwen muttered to herself as she made out of the room to search for a needle.

"It's not as bad as you think," Morgana assured her.

"You know, I only did it to one ear because I only had earring that required a piercing…there's a reason for that."

Sticking a hot needle through her flesh wasn't something that she had liked the first time around and it certainly wasn't going to be something that she could ever find herself doing again.

Yet here she was about to get a new piercing.

"One day we will have a conversation about being stabbed by needles and how desensitized towards it you are," Merlin told her.

"If you insist," Morgana replied with a wide smile.

Merlin narrowed her eyes suspiciously towards the daughter of Gorlois, and then she slumped against the chair with a loud, echoing groan.

This was just turning into a massive headache.

* * *

Merlin was glaring at the blue silk of the gown as she pulled it up her body, situating it carefully from behind the changing screen that Morgana had ceded to her whilst changing on the opposing side of the room behind another screen, having Gwen take Merlin's clothes from the girl once she'd disrobed.

"You look lovely," Gwen assured her as she stepped out from behind the changing screen as Merlin flapped her arms in an annoyed manner, a petulant expression on her face that would have been better suited for a child.

"I look  _ridiculous,"_  Merlin countered. "Just look at me! No one's going to mistake me for Morgana."

"I have never met the Duke," Morgana said as she came out from behind her screen, "for all he knows, you are the Lady Morgana."

Morgana wearing Merlin's close was a bit odd, if Merlin was completely frank. The tunic was loose on her, like it was on Merlin, the same was clear with the dark trousers.

"How can you wear this?" Morgana asked, arching an eyebrow. "It barely fits you, let alone me."

"You've obviously never traveled by yourself through bandit-infested lands," Merlin commented dryly as Gwen forced her into a chair and Merlin winced as she undid her knotted braid.

"Always with an escort, I'm afraid." Morgana played with the black sash at her waist, the one that held Merlin's hidden flat dagger. "Is this supposed to be heavy?"

"It's got a knife hidden in it, so I expect so," Merlin uttered with just a touch of sarcasm that was enough to make Morgana laugh and she tried to hold appropriately still as the comb was raked through her hair, ridding it of the tangles it had gained since she'd taken her bath the previous night; Merlin considered cutting it off, but she actually liked her hair long.

"I never knew your hair was so curly, Merlin, you should wear it down more," Gwen interjected once the conversation had lagged and she had smoothed a lavender-scented pomade into the dark locks.

"It gets in the way when I'm working," Merlin said without preamble. It wasn't a lie; Merlin found it was better to make potions when her hair wasn't falling into the fire.

"Hm…" was all Gwen said to that. "How's the ear?"

A scowl marred Merlin's lips at the question. The first thing they'd done was stab a hole through her earlobe and it was still throbbing from Gwen's assault.

"I will never forgive you," she vowed.

"I'm sure you won't," Gwen responded dryly, taking a necklace of aquamarine and clasping it behind her neck. "Oh…you're going to need to take off your earring too."

Merlin raised a hand automatically to the cylinder of metal that still dangled from her opposite ear. She had relinquished her vambrace to Morgana, who did not understand its significance, but the earring had completely slipped her mind. "I guess it's obvious it doesn't belong to a lady," she mentioned, more to herself than to Gwen as she removed it, handing to over to her friend who in turn handed it to Morgana.

The green-eyed ward took the earring, examining it closely. It didn't have much to its design, apart from the shape and the hole in it from which the ear-clasp was connected, but now that she thought about it, she couldn't quite recall a time where Merlin hadn't been wearing the earring or the vambrace that sat chunkily on her own arm now.

Morgana fastened it to her own lobe with easy before taking Merlin's neckerchief about her throat and pulling her jacket up and over her shoulders. It was snug, warm, and comfortable, and Morgana could see why Merlin wore it with her tunic and trousers.

It was certainly far easier to move around in something that wasn't a skirt, and being quick on your feet was practically a requirement for being a servant under Arthur.

"Ow-ow- _ow!"_

"Sorry," Gwen apologized quickly as she looped the dangling blue earrings from her lobes, one of which was still a fading red which didn't do anything to help the firm glower on her face. "Don't move."

Merlin complied to her demands as she pulled out a thin brush to sweep black over the edges of her eyes in a thin line, thickening it just slightly to draw attention to the dark blue of her eyes, but it made Merlin's eyes water.

"I never realized how pretty your eyes are," Gwen mentioned as she leaned back and Merlin tried to adjust to the invasive substance. That dark shade of blue wasn't one she'd seen before she'd met Merlin.

"You're not the first to mention it." A pale flush adorned Merlin's cheeks and Morgana and Gwen shared a knowing look.

"Merlin…" Morgana's lips curled up into a knowing smile as the girl turned towards her, pink still apparent on her cheeks, "do you have a _lover_?"

The flush bloomed a bright crimson at the merest thought. "What?" Merlin choked on her own tongue. "No-no- _no!_  He's not– we're not—"

"Didn't you tell me you had a man the day we first met?" Gwen grinned and Merlin recoiled in her chair like an animal caught in a corner. "In the council room during that feast that you saved Arthur?"

Merlin's face was heating up faster than Morgana would have thought possible and she watched its progression with fascination.

"That was- I was- we're not really together," Merlin managed to stutter out, despite how flustered she was. "We only kissed  _once!"_

That admission seemed to be a nail in her own coffin, though.

"But was it a good kiss?" Morgana pressed and Merlin almost buried her face in her hands if only to hide her glowing cheeks from her friends, but she couldn't really do that with what was currently on her face.

"I won't dignify that with a response."

And that was just another nail in her coffin.

* * *

The Duke of Lancaster was a bit infamous. He had abandoned Arthur's father during an important battle only to make excuses and reappear after its conclusion, acting as though he had been there the whole time when it was clear he had run with his tail between his legs.

And he couldn't seem to keep on any servants longer than six months; Arthur assumed there was some maltreatment there, even if no one would ever admit to it (he suspected they were being paid for their silence).

The idea of inviting him willingly into the palace that he called home was as daunting as the number of soldiers that he had brought with him.

The Duke was a man with a round belly and a pudgy face with too many rings adorning his fingers.

"Duke Elton," Arthur plastered a kindly smile onto his face that he had perfected from many encounters with nobles he didn't like, "what a pleasure. I apologize for the reception. If we had been aware that you coming, we would have been better prepared."

"It is no matter," the Duke bolstered loudly, gazing around the council room with dark eyes, wandering until they landed on the vacant seat that his father usually occupied.

Arthur did not miss the movement and it made him very uneasy.

He relaxed slightly at the sight of a familiar form with a dark plait down her shoulders, but the green eyes ruined the image and made it obvious who was the one wearing the masculine clothes.

Morgana winked before schooling her expression as she came to stand beside him, a few paces back as was the typical standing position for servants, though that was a rule that Merlin constantly broke; he would never admit how refreshing it was to deal with someone who constantly challenged his authority.

"This is my maidservant, Merlin," Arthur said, inclining his head to the side where Morgana gave a small bow, "she will get you whatever you need."

"Is that so?"

The leer was unmistakable and it made Arthur's stomach roil.

"Within reason," Arthur continued, the muscle in his jaw twitching. "How long will you be staying? I'm sure Father would very much like to see you before you go."

"And where is your father?" the Duke asked with an air of innocence that couldn't have pulled the wool over Arthur's eyes even if he'd tried his hardest. "Not out fighting in that skirmish, is he?"

"He is," Arthur acquiesced, "but I am certain that he is on his way home very soon."

The Duke's eyes were so dark that they bypassed Gwen's soft brown completely to an almost black.

"Hm," was all he said on the matter before moving onto a completely different subject entirely. "I have heard tales of the Lady Morgana's beauty…tell me, is she here in Camelot?"

"She has just returned from a pilgrimage to her father, Gorlois', grave," Arthur said diplomatically. "She's spent the morning resting but I'm certain she will join us shortly."

"Good, good…" The Duke spoke more to himself than to Arthur and Morgana who shared a glance of their own.

With the number of soldiers he had brought with him, which looked to be the entire cavalry of Lancaster, they were no match. His father had left them enough soldiers of their own, but perhaps he hadn't thought anyone would be so foolish as to attack Camelot with such a superior force.

What they needed to do was play their cards right…the only problem was, Merlin was exceptionally good at showing her hand, or playing by rules that no one but her knew.

Hopefully, Merlin would keep her head on straight this time around.

The doors to the chamber opened suddenly and two figures swept inside before the double doors were shut once they had passed them by.

The 'guests' turned to see the two figures, and thus missed Arthur's mouth dropping open as he looked upon his maidservant.

Merlin hardly resembled herself at all.

The silken blue dress hugged the curves he hadn't known she had, but it was as modest a fashion as any of Morgana's gowns possessed, ornate rings adorned her pale fingers and dark curls fell over her shoulders. The blue of her eyes was more obvious than before and the red painted to her lips made them look much fuller than before.

"And this must be the Lady Morgana!"

The Duke was before her in moments and Arthur clenched his fist at the brief surprised expression Merlin had worn before extending her hand to be kissed as Morgana had no doubt instructed her to do so.

"I see the stories do you no justice," the Duke said, bowing his head to brush a kiss to her knuckles. "You are as beautiful as they say."

"You are far too kind," Merlin responded, "and I hope you forgive my tardiness, Duke Elton, I'm afraid the ride to my father's grave took more of a toll on me than I anticipated."

Morgana nudged Arthur and he quickly righted himself. Here he was worried that Merlin was going to be the one that did something wrong, but she was playing the part of Morgana effortlessly.

But how long would it be before the illusion would be broken?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how I'm going to do the second part of this 'episode', only that I know how I want it to end…so we'll see how that goes.
> 
> On another note, I hope you all liked this chapter, I'm really looking forward to 2x1, since that's when Merlin's going to use her vacation days!


	16. Vengeance of a Sorcerer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, maybe Series One won't be finished by the end of the year, but I'll at least make an attempt to get somewhere close to it, and that's the best I can do…I blame myself for deciding to write Serpent Tongue, but it's doing so well that I can't complain (but that's what I get for writing 18 different fanfics).

"The one thing I never understood…was how Perce could fall for anyone."

Percival wiped the sweat off his brow, trying to ignore his two younger siblings as he banged a dent out of a sword.

"I know what you mean…he's got that whole stoic thing going for him."

Percival lifted his head to arch an eyebrow at the twins, Byron and Edgar, who had a habit of being more of a nuisance than a help. They didn't have much of a skill at blacksmithing and spent most days hunting and gathering with a few boys their age (which was fifteen summers).

"But I hear the ladies like that sort of thing," Byron pointed out to his brother.

"True, true," Edgar nodded, conceding the point before appealing to his older brother. "Come on, Perce, when are we going to meet the elusive and mysterious  _Merlin?"_

Byron waggled his eyebrows towards Percival, who turned back to his work as his father stepped into the forge.

"Are you two annoying your brother again?"

"We just want to know when we get to meet our future sister-in-law," Byron said innocently.

"She's very busy," Percival said, lifting his eyes, his lips twitching, "just like I am."

"Yeah, but you get days off," Edgar pointed out.

"Working in Camelot is very different to working here, Ed," Percival said, straining to not roll his eyes, but it didn't work well for him. "Getting time off is much more difficult."

"Or maybe she's just stringing you along?"

Percival's grip on his hammer slipped and his father's eyes sharpened over Byron. "That's enough," he barked.

Merlin didn't get much time off, that much Percival learned very early on, and most times it was only for a day or two and that wasn't enough time to come and visit him. Mostly her days off –as rare in number as they were– were spent in Druid camps, teaching and learning healing.

 _They've started calling me Iseldir's Heir,_  Merlin had told him in the last letter and he could have just imagined her shaking her head and rolling her eyes as she wrote the words down,  _I suppose it's because they haven't seen anyone with as much skill in healing magic since the Chieftain, but it's still a little strange. You would think heir would imply his child, which wouldn't be so terrible, I admit, but Iseldir's not my father, and being called his heir just makes me feel a little odd…_

Merlin's letters flowed like a stream of thoughts, never stopping and never pausing, not until the end of the parchment, where she scrawled a hastily written:  _Love, Merlin._

That was how she always signed them, without a thought of how the words might affect him…because Percival had never heard Merlin say the word love towards him…but he hoped one day they would be exchanged between the two.

* * *

Merlin was terrified, but it didn't show.

Her stomach was roiling beneath the fine silk dress and she barely ate any of the food on her plate, eyes instead glancing over the soldiers that were positioned at several key points in the dining hall.

Morgana and Gwen were standing shoulder to shoulder, which seemed to be more for Gwen's benefit than Morgana's, as the lady was wearing a calm expression in contrast to Gwen's harried one.

"Do my soldiers frighten you, My Lady?"

The words were practically purred and Merlin had to refrain from curling her lip in disgust.

"Soldiers do not frighten me," she said smoothly, "only their intention."

Arthur was tense sitting in his father's chair and his eyes met hers briefly, but whatever he had wished to convey to her was muddled with so many emotions that Merlin couldn't read it accurately.

The fact remained that both parties knew exactly what was going on, even if neither offered to admit it.

"Is that so?" the Duke was grinning at her in a way that made her skin crawl. "And what intention do you think they possess?"

"One of ill intent," Merlin replied before Arthur cut across her.

"You will have to forgive the Lady Morgana," he said, his jaw tensed, "she is used to speaking her mind."

"I can find no fault in a woman like that," the Duke said, eyes darkening as he looked towards. "But one would say that I'm making you uneasy, Prince Arthur."

Morgana strained not to shift her weight from her left leg to her right as she stood, unmoving, at Arthur's side, but her eyes flickered towards Gwen who couldn't have made it more obvious just how uncomfortable she was.

"Maybe you do," Arthur said coolly, "what other reason would the Duke of Lancaster have for bringing a legion of soldiers to Camelot when the king is away with our troops?"

Silence reigned for a few scant moments as the Duke sipped his wine silently. Merlin watched him swallow the alcohol, downing it quickly.

"You are smarter than you appear, I'll give you that," the Duke conceded, "but I'll admit I was a bit obvious when I arrived…but surely you've guessed my intention?"

"I really couldn't imagine what it is," Arthur spoke through gritted teeth, fingers tensing around his fork.

"You want Camelot," Merlin spoke with certainty.

While all the eyes had been focused on Arthur, Merlin had lowered her own, her dark curtain of hair hiding the flare of gold in her eyes as she had breached the shields of the Duke's mind.

Mind magic was difficult to manage and was considered one of the top tiers when one was studying to become a Master. Merlin had never shown a particular aptitude towards the magic. Mind magic was an intrusive and offensive magic and that type had never been one she excelled in.

Usually thoughts were harder to understand, being a mesh of colors, phrases, and emotions, but Duke Elton of Lancaster was remarkably easy to understand. The image of Camelot's fortress kept cropping up along with the desire to obtain.

Anger flashed in Arthur's eyes at Merlin's accurate guess and Morgana tensed where she stood at his side. She may not have been born in Camelot, but it was her home, none the less.

"The king will return with his army," Merlin continued, removing her hands to rest on her lap, her eyes blue steel, "you will be outnumbered, and the king does not take kindly to traitors."

Arthur was half-impressed how well Merlin was playing the part of the king's ward. It was surprisingly convincing. Of course, it was obvious to those who knew both girls that Merlin wasn't Morgana, physical similarities aside. Morgana had a more diplomatic was of talking, one that usually involved moving around the subject, while Merlin was rather head-on and direct.

"He will have executed within an hour of his return," Arthur agreed. "But if you leave quietly, Your Grace, I will forget this situation occurred."

But that would have been far too easy and nothing ever did seem to go the easy way.

Duke Elton smirked. "I think not," he countered, "besides, I have the help of a  _certain individual_  who will ensure I succeed and your father fail."

Merlin arched an eyebrow. "Magic," she surmised and Arthur's anger grew.

" _How dare you!"_  he seethed.

"Yes, a young sorcerer," Elton was grinning widely now, "a former Druid with a deep loathing for someone who came to live here in Camelot…a healer-witch who killed his father…and his powers were enough for me. I convinced him to aid me, and it didn't take much."

A healer-witch who killed his father…the memory made Merlin's heart leap to her throat, racing unbelievably fast.

The Duke waved forward someone from the shadows, a young man garbed in a long brown cloak that was worn and ratty. His eyes were the precise color and shape of Caedmon's but they lacked the child's light, coming off more flat and empty than Caedmon's had ever been, and Merlin knew which she preferred. Lank brown hair fell into empty brown eyes.

Whereas his younger brother was the epitome of light and good, the elder brother was of darkness.

"I am Girec," the man said, his voice as brittle and cold as ice, if not more so.

His eyes swept over the occupants of the room, from the soldiers he'd arrived with, to his traitorous employer, to Arthur straining in his seat, to Merlin gripping the arms of her chair so tightly that she feared she might break the fingers from stress alone.

His gaze went right through her and Merlin knew in an instant that he'd recognized her and Gwen, where she stood watching the scene could see the flash of recognition in both their eyes.

* * *

"Who is he?"

Merlin and Gwen had been locked in the Lady Morgana's chambers for the night and Merlin hadn't really liked the idea of sleeping in someone else's bed, but Morgana was doing the same thing, so eventually she found herself tucked into the covers, idly tracing the triskelion symbol against the palm of her hand with the finger of her opposite hand.

"Someone with a long memory," Merlin admitted with a sigh before glancing up to Gwen. "How much do you know about Druids?"

"Not much," Gwen admitted, perching on the edge of the mattress. "They're executed once Uther finds out they're in Camelot, they have powerful magic…I think that's it."

Merlin snorted, leaning back against the pillows. "Some of them are powerful, I suppose, but most Druids are your average sorcerer with their level of magic, the Chieftains are the ones to worry about."

"You  _know_  Druids?" Gwen asked in surprise and just a little awe.

Merlin smirked. "I'm what you'd call…a Druid-Friend."

"That's daring," Gwen told her with eyes still wide.

"Druids were my friends long before I entered Camelot's walls," Merlin said, fingers smoothing out the blanket over her legs. "Coming here didn't change that."

Gwen remained silent, waiting for Merlin to speak, to say something about the man who had looked upon her friend with so much contempt and disgust.

"There is a man," Merlin said, speaking so suddenly that Gwen stared, "the Chieftain of a Druid camp, named Iseldir…when my mother was carrying me she traveled to Camelot to see my uncle…maybe she was worried about me, I don't know, but on the way back to Ealdor she went to into labor, far from anywhere."

Gwen couldn't imagine being born in the wilderness like that; she had been born in the safety of her father's home.

Merlin ducked her head, giving a small laugh. "Mum liked to say that I called out for help and Iseldir answered." Merlin knew better. Her magic had flared up and had sought out the nearest strongest magical being to help her and Iseldir had come.

"Iseldir is my godfather," Merlin told Gwen, "he's the one who inspired me to learn how to heal, which was how I met Girec."

"Was he a patient?" Gwen asked, curiosity clear to as day.

"Girec's parents Amena and Afton were attacked by soldiers from Cenred's kingdom. Amena escaped without too many injuries," Merlin said slowly, remembering how it had felt to be fourteen and surrounded by chaos. Her hands had been shaking and there were so many people suffering and in pain. Screams and moans had echoed in her ears as she tried to focus on her work. "But Afton was seriously injured…I tried to do the best I could, but the blood wasn't stopping and he bled out…when Girec found me, his father was dead and I was covered in his blood."

Gwen lifted a hand to her mouth in shock, imagining just how terrible it would be to find her father dead and the young healer who had been in charge of keeping him alive…

"He blames you for his father's death," Gwen realized.

Merlin's fingers twisted into the dark hair that she'd opted to leave down, but the regret was clear.

"I tried to…forget about everything that happened that day," Merlin spoke carefully, her knuckles turning white as she tightened her hands into fists. "For awhile I blamed myself…but…" Merlin caught herself just short of exposing who she was to her friend. There would be a time for that later, but right now, magic was feared more than anything else in the land. "I would have had to be a very powerful sorceress in order to save Afton's life."

Gwen's hand slid over hers, her darker skin a stark contrast to Merlin's fair complexion.

"I'm sure you did everything you could," Gwen said gently.

And Merlin was sure she had, but the fact remained that the only reason Girec agreed to assist the Duke was because he had heard Merlin was now working in the palace in Camelot.

She had put so many people at risk by coming to Camelot, and that made her sick to her stomach.

The depth of his desire for vengeance against her was one she had greatly underestimated…Iseldir had told her he just needed time to come to grips with the loss he had suffered, but after the Druidic funeral rites had been performed, Girec had vanished, leaving behind his healing mother and traumatized little brother.

Caedmon had latched onto Merlin when she came to check on Amena a few times a week, but Merlin had tried her best apart from that to stay away from the family.

Merlin wasn't quite sure how Caedmon had managed to worm his way into her life, but she knew that Girec would hold that against her as well.

"Get some sleep, Gwen," Merlin said, giving the hand on top of hers a reassuring squeeze. "Tomorrow's not going to be any easier."

But the words weren't very reassuring.

Gwen had dragged a pillows towards the corner of the room that was hidden behind a dressing screen in order to give herself a make-shift bed, seeing as she wasn't allowed to return to her home for the night.

"You don't have to—" Merlin started to argue, given the largeness of the bed she was currently tucked into.

"Actually, I do," Gwen insisted with bright eyes, "you are still playing the part of Morgana, and ladies and servants do not share beds."

Well, at least some didn't. Merlin had heard a great deal of rumors when she resided in Cenred's Kingdom, concerning servants that were more commonly referred to as bed-warmers.

"You're not going to be as comfortable," Merlin pointed out.

"I'm sure I can handle it," Gwen remarked with a tone laced in amusement.

Merlin could only shake her head in fond exasperation.

* * *

No matter what Gwen thought, Merlin did not go straight to sleep, though she certainly gave off the impression of it.

What she needed was advice, but with guards posted at Morgana's door, it made it a little difficult.

Merlin stewed in her irritation at the whole situation.

Kilgharrah would know what to do, but Kilgharrah wasn't someone she could physically talk to…but maybe with the help of a little magic.

Her eyes burned gold beneath her closed eyelid and she breathed in deeply before releasing the breath, and, with it, her spirit.

It was a weird feeling, like when she'd been poisoned and appeared at Arthur's side, but this time she felt more like she was floating.

Her form was glowing an eerie blue and Merlin looked down to her slumbering form, checking to make sure she was indeed breathing (because Merlin didn't really need to almost die again), before moving silently towards the door.

She extended one hand towards the wood, and it sank right through.

" _Amazing,"_  she murmured to herself before stepping right through to end up in the outer corridor.

The two guards on each side of the door gave no hint that they had seen her, but Merlin had been expecting that, so she ran right past them.

If she had been thinking more about it, she might have tried to glide, as though she was a ghost in the night, but Merlin was more focused on getting down into the dungeons that she went right through one of the Duke's soldiers and didn't even notice.

" _Kilgharrah!"_  she called, not quite sure if her yelling for him would work given her present state, but he was a creature of the Old Religion, surely he could see her?  _"Kilgharrah, can you hear me?"_

A rustic chuckle was the answer to her query. "It's been so long since you've come to me for help, young Warlock…and never before in a spirit-form."

"Camelot has been taken over," Merlin said in a single breath. "There's a Druid sorcerer here—"

"The one who means to kill you?" The dragon finished for her. "Yes, his thoughts are very loud and easy to pick up on."

Merlin couldn't help but stare at him.

"I suppose you want help to defeat him?" Kilgharrah mused. "After all, he has already dispatched the man who has orchestrated the take-over."

She paled.  _"He's done_ what?" she gasped in horror.

"I have seen how the need for vengeance corrupts," the dragon said wisely and solemnly. "The Druid abandoned his vows of peace a long time past in the name of killing you."

To think his anger for her and stretched so deep…

" _How do I stop him?"_  she asked.

"I'm afraid you will have to do the one thing you would rather not, but in this instance, I'm sure you will find it necessary."

But when was there ever a necessity to kill?

The very thought of it made her queasy.

Merlin was a healer not a killer. She did not learn magic in order to take another's life!

* * *

"Where on  _earth_ did you get all this?" Gwen asked when she awakened the next morning to see Merlin, now in a dress of crimson, standing over a cauldron resting on the table, stirring in a multitude of herbs.

"I have my ways," Merlin said giving her a wink for good measure. "This is to knock out the guards in order to retake the castle."

Gwen gaped at her, looking from her friend, to the muddy-colored solution in the pot. "You're being serious?"

"Of course I'm being  _serious_! Who do you take me for?" Merlin held out the cauldron to her and handed a scrap of cloth to cover her nose. "One whiff of this once I add the poppy blossoms and anyone will be down for about an hour, which is why you'll be carrying it around to all the guards."

" _Me?"_  Gwen nearly squeaked. "But—!"

"Get the servants and the soldiers first," Merlin was speaking over her, but not enough to rouse suspicion from the guards outside the room that would be the first to smell the fluid's steam, "and then get Arthur."

"But what about you?" Gwen insisted, grasping her arm, her eyes wide and scared. "You can't take on a sorcerer by yourself, Merlin! You don't have magic! He'll _kill_  you!"

"We'll see about that," Merlin said, dropping the poppies into the cauldron and making it steam upon impact and forcing Gwen to hastily cover her mouth and nose with the cloth that Merlin had previously thrust towards her in order to keep herself from collapsing from the potion's potency.

A sharp rap on the door and the door opened with the two impressive soldiers glaring at them through their visors.

Merlin plugged her nose and smiled as they caught the potion's scent and both collapsed in under five seconds.

Merlin looked down impressed. "I didn't think it would work that well," she admitted, her voice nasally from her nose being pinched.

"You're sure they'll be out for awhile?" Gwen asked, her voice muffled from the cloth.

"I know my potions," Merlin replied, ducking down to test the smaller of the two's blade, but even it was heavy in her hands. The dagger was much better, but Merlin couldn't imagine using a dagger well in the place of a sword.

She took off before Gwen could try to convince her to abandon her terrible plan.

Merlin knew that the Duke was long dead by now. She had managed to find him in her spirit-form the previous night after having her brief talk with the Great Dragon, and the sight had been appalling indeed; Merlin suspected that Girec had snapped his neck with a violent throw against the wall.

She knew where he was waiting for her, which was why, she suspected, that he hadn't left any guards stationed at the entrance into the throne room.

The doors were thrown open by her magic rather than the force of her own hands and she stepped inside to glower at the figure resting on the King's Throne. "That seat is not meant for you," she remarked coldly, hefting the dagger between her fingers.

Girec narrowed his eyes for good measure, trailing from her own down to the dagger clutched painfully tight in her grip.

"We both know that you don't need that," he spoke with a deep voice edged in darkness, "why don't you take me on as you really are,  _Witch."_

Merlin found it insulting to be called a Witch when she identified more as a Warlock –even Kilgharrah had been able to see that–, but so many preferred to throw her in the category of female magic-users.

"I'm afraid it really wouldn't be much of match,  _Girec,"_  Merlin replied, coming to a stop a few feet in front of him.

His eyes were like dark fiery pits and Merlin found them deeply unnerving in how similar they were to his brother's and yet how different. "I will have your _head_ ," he growled, "for what you did to my father."

"I did nothing to your father," Merlin countered furiously. "He was nearly dead when he was brought before me. Unless you wanted me to perform Necromancy, an art strictly forbidden by our kind?"

Merlin could see an outline of a sword beneath his robe as he spat at her: "You are not  _my kind!"_

"Have you really been playing the fool so long that it's what you've become?"

If Hunith had been there, she would have tried to silence her daughter, who had reached the point of biting sarcasm and there was no going back.

"Here's a bit of information that you might like," she continued without stopping even for breath as he stood angrily, "your little brother likes me quite a bit…even wants to apprentice to me once I become—"

Girec, she knew, cared more about his family than anything, and the mere thought that the girl he considered to have murdered his father was more than enough to cause magic to crackle in the air like lightning as he gave a roar, lurching forward.

There was a spray of blood and a body hit the floor, pooling crimson across the stones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh! Dramatic ending, but I'm sure we can all guess who's alive given how this fic is not yet done ;) I'm not sure when I'll update again, but I am hoping to finish Sting of the Blade in a matter of days, if I'm lucky…but maybe next weekend there'll be a new chapter to read ;)
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the brief scene with Percival, I really want to write him so bad, but we'll get there eventually.


	17. A Mysterious Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I really liked that two-part filler I wrote, especially since Merlin was the reason for it (poor Merlin, just trying to be a good person, but you can't always win), but now we're back to legit plot, and I left you lot with a cliffhanger last time (haha, I do that a lot).
> 
> Anyways, onto part one of the Remedy to Cure All Ills

Merlin was very consistent in her efforts to not use magic on herself. She was sorely tempted, however, as she downed another of Gaius' foul-tasting pain potions, but there were worse things to be than in pain.

"Perhaps you should rest yourself," Iseldir advised, noticing how she hadn't moved her arm in the whole time she'd been in the Druid camp.

Girec's damage to her wasn't as terrible as what it had cost him and Merlin still had nightmares that were bathed in blood.

Arthur had arrived to find her kneeling in the blood pouring from his body, murmuring death rites for the Druid.

Merlin hadn't realized just how much she was shaking until she tried to speak, only to discover it was a difficult trial.

It had been almost a week since Merlin had quit as Arthur's maidservant and she'd only just had time to inform Amena of her son's passing today.

The idea of killing someone, even a person as bad as Girec, still made Merlin sick to her stomach.

"I'm fine," Merlin said thickly, shaking her dark thoughts from her mind. "I don't have much time…Gaius is expecting me back before midday."

And the thick bandage around her arm was starting to aggravate; she needed to redress it sooner rather than later.

Iseldir rested a hand against her shoulder, eyes gazing imploring into hers.

"I'm fine," Merlin insisted with a bit more feeling than before, "besides, a friend of mine is ill, I can't really stay here, I  _am_  needed at the palace."

But he knew as well as she did that she was just using that as an excuse to run away, but it wasn't as though he could keep her there. She had done what she came to do; she had brought the ashes of Girec that she had collected into an urn after his corpse was burned at the stake (which seemed far less effective given how he was already dead). She had returned a piece of Girec to his mother and brother and she didn't expect them to forgive her for her act of murder.

Merlin turned away, clicking her tongue softly and Triton trotted forward as though summoned. She stuck her foot in one stirrup and hoisted herself onto his back before directing him quietly out of the camp.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea for her to have come, especially now with Morgana in the condition that she was.

Uther had been a bit…tempestuous for the past two days, ever since Morgana had fallen asleep and refused to awaken. Nothing Gaius tried worked and even Merlin couldn't come up with anything that could cause such a response in a person.

Merlin had considered the thought many times that the illness was caused by something magical in nature, even if Gaius waited until it was the last resort before deciding anything was the result of magic. It was an annoying habit if you asked Merlin. Of course, Merlin had been raised in an environment where magic was heavily a part of, magic was the norm for her and when something could not be explained by science, then it had to be caused by magic.

She steered Triton through the lower town as they made their way past the outer gates, heading further into Camelot. Merlin still stiffened at every sight of red, which included the crimson cloaks that the knights wore, and she completely avoided Arthur in the halls.

He'd tried to talk to her a total of seventeen times since she'd terminated her position as his maidservant, and he still had no idea why…the complete  _prat._

Merlin gritted her teeth together, aggravated by the memory of Arthur's words:  _"It's all right, the sorcerer's dead…you saved all our lives, you did it."_

He had been glad that she'd taken another's life…the very thing that was giving her nightmares that would not cease. But, then again, she should have expected that, he was a  _hunter_  after all.

There had been a few attempts to fill her position, but they hadn't gone very well; apparently Merlin was something of a legend among the servants and some were convinced that the position as a private servant to the prince was cursed if Merlin wasn't it.

Merlin thought it was ludicrous.

She dismounted Triton, lodging him carefully into the stables, patting his nose fondly before heading inside, her arm still hanging limply at her side.

A silent guess of Gaius being in Morgana's chambers sent Merlin to take a different path than the one to the Court Physician's chambers.

She came to a stop at the staircase that led upwards to the level that held Morgana's chambers, and at the foot of the stairs stood Gwen looking more harried than usual and her darker complexion just a few shades too light.

Her worry for Morgana was evident.

"Any news?" Merlin asked so suddenly that Gwen jumped, a hand jolting to rest over her heart.

"Merlin!" she breathed in relief, but then her face fell. "No, nothing, Gaius has been in there for almost an hour—"

As soon as she had spoke her uncle's name, the man himself had begun the descent of the curved staircase at a pace only a man of his age would use, and Gwen pounced on him as soon as he made it to the last step.

"Is she any better?" she queried, brown eyes wide and concerned.

Gaius shook his head sadly and Gwen brushed past him in her effort to reach the top of the landing quickly and return to her lady's side.

"She's all but dead, Merlin," Gaius said gravely before Merlin could speak.

"I don't believe that," Merlin disagreed, "if this is an illness, and it is, there's a cure somewhere."

"Wherever it is," Gaius uttered with a sigh, "it's not here. I've tried everything and there has been no improvement."

"Maybe you haven't tried everything," Merlin hedged, giving him a direct look and Gaius narrowed his eyes in disapproval. "Maybe I could, you know…try something."

"If you're suggesting magic," he said, because what else could Merlin have been suggesting? "have you forgotten what happened with Gwen's father? This is not a magical illness, it must be cured by conventional means. We keep trying. See if you can find me some fresh rosemary."

Merlin glared at him.

"And yarrow," he added, causing Merlin to stalk off, grumbling angrily.

* * *

The kitchens always seemed to be busy every time of the day, but that was fine with Carter, he liked to be kept busy. He was also rather new to working in the palace kitchen, so he was mostly failing at his job, and it was only thanks to a kindly girl named Charlotte that he was keeping afloat.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it," she assured him as the kitchen door banged open and someone entered. This someone was not wearing a servant's uniform like everyone else in the room.

"Is she allowed to be in here?" Carter muttered to his companion.

She certainly didn't look as though she belonged, being a woman dressed a masculine garb from her tunic to her trousers. He supposed if she tucked her long braid down her shirt, she might pass for a male, a very pretty male, but a male.

Charlotte giggled. "I forgot how new you are; that's Merlin."

"Merlin?" Carter repeated the name strangely. It was an odd name.

"Merlin's the apprentice to the Court Physician," Charlotte confided, "she was also Prince Arthur's maidservant up until about a week ago…she's a legend around here."

"Why?" Carter asked, his eyes following the girl as she strode towards the cook purposefully. He had to admire her guts, but Cook didn't like anyone.

"Well, there was the time she took a poisoned goblet for the prince…and then there was the time when she saved his life from a sorceress…and just last week she had to act as Lady Morgana's decoy and ended up killing a sorcerer."

Charlotte's eyes glowed as she told her tales only to be sharply interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.

"I would not consider killing someone a chief accomplishment, would you, Charlotte?"

Charlotte squeaked as she found herself having a steely blue stare delivered upon her. Carter had never seen eyes so blue before. "No, Merlin," she squeaked before the older girl strode away, allowing Charlotte a breath of fresh air.

"Is she always like that?" Carter wondered, kneading dough in his hands.

"No, usually she's a bit more cheerful and sarcastic," Charlotte admitted, "but she's been in a bad mood all week."

"Liana," Merlin was speaking to Cook and Carter was surprised to discover that that was actually her name, "Gaius is having me pop out for some herb collecting, is there anything you want me to grab you if I come across?"

Cook gave her a rare grin. "Merlin, always giving me the good stuff…get me some mint and thyme if you see any, will you?"

"Will do," Merlin said.

"And I'll save you some extra bits!" Cook called after her and Merlin made her exit.

"You're too good to me, Liana!" Merlin replied with a light laugh.

Carter gaped at Charlotte. "She's on a first name basis with Cook?" Of all people, Cook was definitely the most difficult to be around, yet Merlin had marched right up to her, fearlessly.

"I'm telling you, she's a legend," Charlotte said with wide eyes.

" _Oi!_  You two, back to work!"

And both quickly ducked their heads and resumed their work.

* * *

Normally, Merlin had nothing against collecting herbs, in fact, it was one of the things liked to do the most. Merlin loved nature more than most things and her magic was drawn from that; it was far more powerful when she was surrounded by earth than the stones that made up Camelot's palace.

Merlin had more often than not fallen asleep out in the wilderness whilst collecting, which wasn't a terribly good pastime to have, but once that she was trying to shake.

However, this time she was too annoyed to thoroughly enjoy it.

"Can you  _believe_ him?" she complained to Triton, her most steadfast companion these days. The horse nickered softly in reply. "I mean, Morgana's dying! And he doesn't even  _consider_  magic? If that isn't the biggest pile of rubbish, I don't know what is."

Triton pawed the ground in agreement as Merlin pulled up yarrow flowers, binding them together in her basket.

"Of course, I have nothing against Gaius' methods," she added quickly, "but you'd think that once you realized someone couldn't be healed by science that you would go straight to magic, wouldn't you?"

Triton blinked his large eyes at her and Merlin took that to mean, yes, that was exactly what he would have done.

"It's not like I'm useless, you know," Merlin grumbled. True, her arm was much weaker since Girec had cut her, but she had lost a lot of blood from the arm and knitting the skin back together had been quite painful.

Gaius had only removed the stitches earlier that morning, and the arm was still throbbing a little.

"It's like he's ignoring me!" Merlin complained. "You know, I've studied healing for years, I've got some experience too!"

But, unfortunately, Triton had no response to offer her, or, if he did, it was not one that Merlin could understand.

Merlin gave mournful sigh, placing her last bundle into her basket before pulling herself up into a standing position. "We'd better get back before he finds something else for me to do."

* * *

Unfortunately, Gaius had found something else for her to do, and that was assisting a visiting physician who had heard of Morgana's illness.

Edwin Muirden was an odd man. And Merlin didn't mean that because of the scar that had warped part of his face, she didn't mind scars, it was that he claimed to have a remedy to cure all ills, something Merlin was certain did not exist…unless he truly knew the cause of Morgana's illness…and that didn't bode well.

"You are very strong," Edwin remarked as she set down a particularly weighty chest.

Merlin blinked in surprise, lifting her eyes from the chest to look at him. "No," she disagreed, "I've just gotten used to carrying heavy loads."

This was true. It might have been easier for Arthur if he'd had a manservant instead of a maid, but she was what he'd had at the time. And he'd had her carry around an assortment of heavy loads since her first day, much to her aggravation.

Edwin had a few bubbling tinctures set up and Merlin's eyes roved over them in fascination.

He noticed where her eyes had gone. "Yes," he said, "it was all originally designed for alchemy." He knelt to add another empty tincture to the mass.

Merlin arched an eyebrow, leaning against the table. "Trying to make gold?" she asked dubiously.

She had made gold once by accident, using a spell she didn't really know how to use properly, and not knowing what to do with it, she opted to bury it near a stream in Ealdor.

"You have an interest in science?" That seemed to surprise him and Merlin couldn't help but be annoyed.

"I'm apprenticed to the Court Physician," Merlin replied, her voice a touch cool.

"Forgive me," Edwin said quickly. "I meant no offense…it is just rare for such apprentices to physicians to be—"

"Female?" Merlin responded.

"Well, yes," Edwin agreed.

"Some people see talent regardless of sex," Merlin said, eyes narrowing slightly, "I am here for the pursuit of knowledge through science."

Edwin gave an approving hum even as he regarded her curiously; Merlin wasn't quite sure what to make of the look. "It has the answers to everything," he couldn't deny.

"I don't think so."

Both eyebrows rose this time, the action pulling slightly at his scar, but Merlin pretended not to notice. "Oh?"

"It can't explain…faith…or how you feel," Merlin offered two examples to her reasoning. There were probably more, but that was all she could come up with at the moment.

"You mean love?" Edwin asked with a smile and Merlin flushed, Percival's face coming to the forefront of her mind before she savagely pushed it aside.

"Well, I suppose," Merlin muttered, "but I was thinking more along the lines of various emotions."

Edwin considered her. "You seem too bright to be just a mere apprentice."

Merlin was flattered but she gave a small shrug, picking up a box that sounded as though something was scuttling within before he pulled it out of her hands.

"Yes," he said, putting it on a pile of boxes he was going to have Merlin carry, "we will need that. Now, we must hurry to the Lady Morgana, before it is too late."

A grunt left Merlin's lips as she lifted them into her arms, but she managed it without too much effort, following after the sweep of Edwin's cloak.

Arthur was standing in the corner of Morgana's room when Merlin entered carrying Edwin's things, and she did her best to ignore him, even with the annoyed noise he made when she did so.

Morgana's room was filled with people, far more than Merlin was certain she would actually like to have within, if she'd actually been awake. Uther and Arthur were there but so were Gaius and Gwen, bringing their total to six.

"Put my equipment over there," Edwin directed her and Merlin complied. "Sire, I would be grateful if you could have everyone leave the room. I require peace and privacy."

"Certainly," Uther agreed and he and Arthur hastened out with Merlin following after only to pause when Edwin added: "That includes you, Gaius."

"But I am eager to learn from your methods," Gaius spoke humbly.

"Now is not the time for giving instruction," Edwin said, his words sharp and direct, which was a surprise. Merlin hadn't thought he would raise his voice in such a way…there was something very off about him in how he didn't want anyone to see what he was doing…like he would get in trouble for doing it… "I will need all my concentration."

Merlin suspected magic, but she kept her mouth shut as Uther called him out and she followed after him, casting the man one last suspicious glance before pulling the door shut behind her.

"I should be in there," Gwen said, gazing longingly at the door, and Merlin shook her head quickly.

"No, you shouldn't," Merlin discounted, "Morgana doesn't need you right now, what she needs is a cure."

And Gwen positively deflated, but she couldn't deny that there wasn't some truth to Merlin's words.

She clasped her hand tightly with her friend's as they descended the staircase to wait on baited breath to see if Edwin's cure had worked.

"Do you think the cure will work?" Gwen pressed her.

"I don't know," Merlin said honestly, and it did nothing to ease her fears, if the look on her face was any indication.

But a moment later it didn't matter because Edwin reappeared, taking the stairs with a smile that Merlin didn't believe for a second.

"Great news, Your Majesty," he said, smiling broadly, giving a small bow to the king, "you will be glad to hear it is not an inflammation of the brain."

Uther barely released a breath of relief. "What is it, then?"

"It is a cerebral hemorrhage."

Gaius' hands dropped to his sides. "Hemorrhage?" he said doubtfully. "I don't think so."

There was something in his eyes that Merlin didn't like, as though this was exactly how he'd been expecting things to go.

"I found this trace of blood in her ear," he said, holding up a small cloth with a stain of red on it.

He was practically mocking Gaius and Merlin could feel anger welling up inside her. She had checked both ears herself; there was no blood!

"God in heaven!" Uther gasped.

Edwin continued, "The severity depends upon the site and volume of the bleed. If not treated, it can lead to coma, and eventually death.

"How could you have missed this?" Uther demanded of Gaius.

"I didn't see any blood," Gaius said, sounding just a touch vexed.

"Please.," he said and Merlin's hand clenched into a fist where it was crossed with her other arm. "Just thank the fates that you did not administer more rosemary to stimulate the circulation. Can you imagine what that might have done?

Both Uther and Arthur's eyes fastened on Gaius for an explanation.

"It may have increased the bleed," he admitted.

"Is there a cure?" Uther asked Edwin, removing angry eyes from Gaius.

"See for yourself," Edwin said with a smile, gesturing up the stairs.

They all darted up, but Merlin lingered.

"Gaius' eyes may not be what they used to be, but my eyes are clear," she remarked to him. "It is easy to find blood when you manufacture it yourself."

And then she was gone before he could offer a reply or counter-remark.

* * *

Merlin stopped by Morgana's room later that day to bring her some flowers that the servants had chalked up to give her as a get well present, and Morgana had been very pleased when Merlin gifted them to her.

"Tell them I said thank you," Morgana told her as Gwen placed the pink tulips in a vase.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Merlin said softly, and Morgana smiled softly, taking her friends hands in hers.

"It's all right," she promised kindly, "I'm doing much better…I'm sure you did all you could."

But Merlin was still stung that she and Gaius hadn't found a way to heal Morgana before Edwin had showed up.

"I do have a headache," Morgana invited, "if you want to soothe my pain."

Merlin rolled her eyes, getting the distinct feeling that Morgana was only doing that in order to make Merlin feel useful, but she didn't really mind.

"Close your eyes," she said, raising her hands to probe Morgana's temples and her friend complied. Merlin closed her eyes, hiding the flare of gold beneath her eyelid as she eased the headache.

"Oh, thank you," Morgana sighed, opening her eyes and smiling, "how are  _you?"_

"I wasn't the one dying a few hours ago," Merlin pointed out.

Morgana ignored that. "Are you and Arthur still not talking?"

"I have nothing to say to him," Merlin replied swiftly before standing. "I'm glad you're feeling better but I've got to go and help Gaius now."

She was out of the door before Gwen could pull her back.

"She's avoiding him like the plague," Gwen sighed, shaking her head, but she couldn't really blame her.

* * *

She could have gone anywhere, but Merlin couldn't stanch the uneasy feeling that flowed over her from its source, Edwin Muirden.

A sharp rap of knuckles on the man's quarters elicited no response, so Merlin opened the door cautiously, peering inside, but the room was void of the man it had been given to temporarily.

She opened the door a bit more and slid inside.

Her fingers traced over the model of the planets that rested on the table before her eyes fell to the box that Edwin had taken out of her hands before. She opened, jolting at the sight of many dead bugs. Her eyebrows creased together in confusion and she shut the box to read out the inscription on the box.

" _ **Bebiede þe arisan ealdu**_ ," she recited, her eyes blazing a bright gold very briefly and the scuttling she had heard before started up again and Merlin was surprised when she opened the box to see the beetles moving about.

"Very good," a voice commented behind her she almost dropped the box and did send the planetary alignment clattering to the ground.

It was Edwin.

He took the box from her, disregarding the mess she'd made on the floor, opening is and saying in a low whisper:  _ **"Swefn."**_

The beetles stilled in their box.

Edwin looked to her, appraising her. "You have magic…only magic can bring these to life…these little angels are how I cured Lady Morgana. They repaired the damage to her brain. They saved her. Magic can be a force for good."

The muscle under Merlin's eye twitched a little. "You say that like I don't what that."

"If you do," Edwin said, "then why do you fear it?"

"I," Merlin replied with a great deal of annoyance, "do not fear magic, only its misuse…the only sorcerers that have come here are ones with ill intents."

"And you think I am one of these sorcerers?" Edwin quirked an eyebrow towards her. "Surely you can see that my only desire was to heal the Lady Morgana?"

Merlin replied stiffly, "That remains to be seen."

He had an ulterior motive, Merlin just wasn't quite sure what it was yet.

But his words still echoed in her mind long after she'd gone:  _"A gift like yours should be nurtured, practiced, enjoyed. You need someone to help you, to encourage you."_

And he wasn't wrong. Sometimes Merlin felt as though she was drowning, not being able to use her magic as much as she had before she'd come to Camelot, but she had a feeling that a partnership with Edwin would not end well for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a scene in part two that I'm going to love to write, because Merlin's going to stop being mad at Arthur and start being mad at someone else; its going to be glorious!
> 
> Merlin's arm is healing, so she'll be back to her usual self in a bit, but she's going to have a long scar for her troubles.


	18. The Will of an Apprentice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may or may not be anymore Mercival flashbacks, since a reviewer asked, but we'll see when we get there, I suppose.
> 
> I might have Merlin meet Percival's twin brothers at some point and them being all like "No way you're Merlin! You're too pretty for Percival!" Which would be hysterical, I think.
> 
> I'm still trying to do the whole updating one a week thing in order to finish out series one, but I don't know how long that is going to last. So I might be on hiatus again at one point, I make no promises.

Merlin slept terribly, plagued by nightmares that would not cease and when she awoke she felt faintly ill.

There was something off about Edwin Muirden, there could be no denying that matter, but just what he sought was what made Merlin uneasy, particularly because she did not know what exactly it was.

Perhaps she should have been a bit more careful concerning her magic, but that was neither here nor there. The fact remained that Edwin could use magic himself, which led Merlin to believe that Morgana's supposed illness had been a product of magic and had been cured by magic, not medical means.

But the way he'd made Gaius seem…as though he was getting old and missing things…that was intentional. And the only sorcerers that had passed through Camelot where there to cause harm; not that Merlin could blame them, given how Camelot brought it on itself, executing any sorcerer that was within Camelot, whether they were peaceful or not.

Merlin couldn't really fault them for wanting retribution, she would too, but she was a healer not a warrior; she didn't use her magic for violence.

She threw her legs over the side of the bed, raking her fingers into her hair as she plaited her dark locks into a single braid. In a surprisingly short amount of time Merlin was dressed and then she knelt on the floor

" _ **Píl áberan,"**_  she murmured, her eyes glowing gold just faintly as the nails that bolted the wood plank to the floor rose into the air and Merlin grasped them from the air before gently removing the plank.

It was true that her room had a loose plank that Merlin could stash things within, but it was also far too obvious to Merlin. If she was going to hide something beneath a plank, it wouldn't be in the first place you'd look. And no one would look under a wooden plank that had been nailed down.

Merlin looked down into the hidden cache where she kept all the things she didn't want people to find.

The grimoire that Gaius had given her rested within, as well as copies of the books Merlin had asked Geoffrey for, the ones that dealt with curing magical illnesses, a triskelion pendent that Iseldir had gifted her but Merlin didn't dare wear in Camelot, and a sack of gold that Arthur had given her for her troubles as Morgana's decoy.

Merlin pulled the grimoire free, pulling it open on her lap as she thumbed through the pages, searching for any hint of the beetles she had seen in the box that Edwin possessed.

A great deal of what was within the book dealt primarily with magic itself, but there were still quite a few passages concerning enchanted objects and creatures.

She trailed her finger down the pages, searching for any image, any at all, concerning magical beetles. Merlin had all but given up hope when she came across the passage on something called the Elanthia Beetles.

According to the passage, Elanthia Beetles were magical insects conjured by dark magic and were particularly deadly in how they could be enchanted to enter one's brain and devour it right down to the person's very soul.

It was quite repulsive, Merlin couldn't deny it, and somehow she wasn't all that surprised that Edwin had used dark magic in the first place.

But the book also gave a remedy of sorts and a spell to remove the beetle when it was still inside its victim. The potion was to repair the damage the beetles left, and it was one that Merlin was certain that Morgana hadn't had yet.

"Elderberry, Ginger, Burdock Root, Sage, Valerian," Merlin read off in a murmur, repeating them in her head so as not to forget before shutting the book and stuffing it back under the floorboards, replacing the plank where it was and returning the nails to their slots.

It was as though there was nothing underneath them, and that was what had been Merlin's intention.

She grabbed her jacket, throwing it over her shoulders and grabbing her herb bag from the hook behind the door before opening it and making her way down the stairs.

Gaius was already awake, sitting at his table with a thick tome open and candles lit.

Merlin arched an eyebrow. "Gaius, did you even go to sleep last night?"

"Is it morning?" Gaius asked, blinking thickly as he turned to look out the window where sunlight was pouring in through the window. "Ah, yes, it seems I did not, but it was worth it." He straightened his back slightly to knock out the kinks that had formed in the night. "Where are you going?"

"I've got to collect some herbs that we're running low on," Merlin said, not wanting to tell Gaius what she was up to if the potion didn't work.

"Which ones?" Gaius pressed, no doubt trying to find a lie in her words as she collected the jars that they usually stored certain herbs in.

"We're almost out of Elderberries, Sage, Burdock Root, Valerian, and Ginger," Merlin informed him, shoving the jars carefully into her bag before grabbing an apple from the table. "I'll be back by lunch, maybe earlier if I'm lucky."

Gaius hummed in agreement. "Well, you better get a move on then."

Merlin gave a small wave before pulling the door shut behind her and breathing a small sigh before continuing her way through the castle before making her way into the courtyard and into the royal stables.

When Triton saw her, he nickered loudly and Merlin smiled, taking a few bites out of the apple before giving the rest to him to finish.

"Want to help me collect some herbs?" she asked him with a smile, laughing when he bobbed his head in agreement.

"Come on, then, we've got a lot of work to do."

* * *

Merlin picked the Elderberries carefully so as to avoid squashing them in the jar, even though potions often called for squashed Elderberries, but they only worked when the berries' insides weren't exposed to air for a prolonged amount of time.

"Think that's enough?" she asked the horse as she held up the almost jar for him to see, but Triton could see nothing wrong with amount of berries she'd picked.

"Maybe a few more," Merlin contemplated, adding several more berries to the before screwing the top on tightly.

Burdock Root was easy enough to find, as was Ginger, but Sage and Valerian were proving to be elusive, even to Merlin who seemed to know that best places to collect herbs out of everyone in Camelot.

Luckily, Merlin knew a spell or two to help you find what you were looking for, and sooner, rather than later, Merlin had all her jars full and tucked safely in her bag as she fitted one foot in a stirrup and hoisted herself onto the horse's back, nudging him back in the direction of Camelot.

The trip had been, for the most part, relatively silent, but Merlin had a habit of talking to Triton as though he was person, but it wasn't as though horses lacked intelligence, so he understood her fairly well (but only to a certain degree).

"Nice ride, Merlin?"

Merlin spared a grin to the stable-hand, Neal. "Pretty nice, yeah."

Neal was a flirt and he flirted with nearly every servant, whether they were male or female. Merlin had once seen him get Cook to blush, and that was impressive to say the least.

"Would've been better with company," Neal whistled innocently, throwing a wink her way as she dismounted and he took Triton's reins.

"As always, my own company is far better than yours," Merlin replied with a laugh as Neal clutched his chest as though mortally injured by her words alone.

"You  _wound_  me!" he cried dramatically before waving her farewell as she made her way towards the side entrance (as opposed to taking the massive double doors which were a nuisance to get through).

Merlin pulled the bag closer to her side as she checked to make sure she hadn't dropped anything on her way in before taking the steps two at a time, looping up the spiral staircase before making her way towards the Court Physician's quarters when Gaius' voice made her pause.

"Edwin," Gaius said from beyond the barely open door that med into the guest quarters that Edwin Muirden was staying in and Merlin pressed herself against the wall, listening intently. "Your scar has healed well. I often wondered what happened to that poor young boy."

"I told you we've never met before," Edwin said, but Merlin could sense the lie in his tone of voice alone.

It seemed Gaius heard the lie as well as he ignored the statement. "I didn't realize who you were until I checked the records," he said. "You used your mother's maiden name. You are Gregor and Jaden's son."

There was a moment of silence following a remarkably cool statement. "They were friends of yours."

"They were sorcerers," Gaius accused and Merlin swallowed thickly.

"They practiced magic. And so did a lot of people back then, Gaius," Edwin returned and Merlin was certain he was giving Gaius a stare that indicated Gaius was one who used magic as well (which Merlin knew he did).

Gaius ignored the jibe towards him. "Uther will be furious when he finds out who you are."

Edwin did not react as Merlin expected him to. "Fine," he said simply, " _fine_. Shall we tell him? Let's go and tell him. Let's tell him –let's tell him everything.  _Ooh_ , I know… We could also tell him about Merlin."

Blood ran cold like ice in Merlin's veins at those words. She knew that using her magic was going to come and bite her in the ass, but this…Merlin being revealed for who she really was to the man who had killed most of her kind…this was the worst possible outcome.

"Merlin?" Gaius repeated in careful confusion.

"You didn't know she was a sorceress?" Edwin queried. " _Ah._  I wonder what Uther will do…Probably have her burnt…Imagine naming a sorceress as your son's servant…what a  _shame_  that would be."

Burnt at the stake…that was an image that had plagued Merlin's darkest nightmares, one that she'd had since she was a very young child, but it was one that was understandable, given what usually happened to those that were discovered using witchcraft.

"You would betray another sorcerer?" Gaius asked, startled by the information.

"You did," Edwin replied with cold accusation, "when you turned a blind eye and let my parents die at the hands of Uther! At least Merlin doesn't have a son who will try to rescue her from the flames!"

Merlin flinched.

"You're here to take revenge," Gaius assessed quietly.

"And I have waited a long time," Edwin responded lowly.

"You think I will sacrifice the King to save Merlin?" Gaius asked and Merlin could hear the sound of steps being taken around the table that was laden with all Edwin's supplies.

"Oh, I think you will," Merlin could practically hear the smirk in Edwin's voice, "because she's not just any sorceress, is she? She's  _powerful_. I could sense it when she performed magic in front of me…it truly would be a waste to lose  _her_  to the flames, don't you think? And if I find out that you have told one other person, including the girl, I will go straight to Uther."

Merlin was gone when the door opened and Gaius stepped out into the hall.

* * *

A familiar head of dark hair greeted Gaius when he returned to his quarters to find Merlin hard at work.

"Already back?" he asked her. "Did you find everything?"

"Yes," Merlin said without looking up from her task and if Gaius didn't know her so well, he wouldn't have thought anything was wrong, but he did, and he could detect an underlying tension in the way that Merlin had spoken.

"What potion are you making?" he asked her as she counted out a number of berries into her mortar before grinding them with her pestle with more force than was necessary.

"Something for Morgana," Merlin replied, "to repair the damage done to her brain."

"Merlin," Gaius spoke with a reprimand, "Morgana doesn't need—"

"You know what?" Merlin snapped, twisting around to look at him with eyes a blazing blue fire; Gaius had never seen her so furious before. " _No!_  A few days ago you were ready to give up on Morgana, my  _friend!_  Because you couldn't find an answer in your science! You never even thought to consider magic! You shot me down every time I suggested it! But it was here the whole time!" Merlin jabbed a finger to her propped open grimoire. "So I'm going to fix what's been done to her since no one else is!"

"Merlin," Gaius spoke gently, but Merlin was far too angry.

"Not all of us can give up on our friends so easily, Gaius," Merlin retorted, dumping the squashing remnants of the Elderberries into the cauldron, murmuring a spell too soft for Gaius to hear, but it caused the potion to bubble a thick pale purple as Merlin ladled it into a bottle easily held in one hand before dashing out of the room without a glance back.

She did not see Edwin even as she strode past his room, and that was all well for her; she wasn't sure how she would react to seeing him.

After a sharp tap on the door to Morgana's chamber followed by a replying, "Enter," Merlin made it to her destination.

Morgana was still in bed, but she was looking much better with far more color to her cheeks than the previous night.

"Merlin," Morgana said with an easy smile, "you know I'm fine, you don't have to keep checking up on me."

Merlin rolled her eyes for good measure before looking to Gwen who was pulling out a dress for Morgana to wear. "Is she?" she asked, trusting Gwen's judgment over Morgana's.

"She has been complaining about a pain in the back of her head," Gwen admitted as Morgana scowled at the pair of them.

Merlin placed the bottle of potion she'd been carrying on Morgana's beside as she extended her hands forward with a "May I?" that Morgana granted. Merlin felt along the back of her head until she found the spot where the beetle had gnawed on the most.

"Yes, there," Morgana said with a wince, "was it caused from the cerebral hemorrhage?"

Merlin drew her hands back. "The kind of…illness you had caused a small breakdown of your brain tissue," she explained carefully, "the pain you're feeling now is from that."

"But I felt fine yesterday!"

Merlin shrugged. "Sometimes these things take time for us to notice them. I have a potion that should ease the pain and repair the damage."

"But she's going to be fine?" Gwen insisted, relief present in her eyes.

"In a day or so it'll be as though nothing happened," Merlin concurred.

But the fact remained that it had.

* * *

Gaius heaved a sigh as he looked up to where Merlin's room was, the girl hidden from view by the door that had been shut behind her angrily when she had returned for the night, skipping dinner all together saying she was going to study in her room.

Gaius suspected the grimoire might have been involved, but he couldn't fault her for wanting to learn about the magic that he always feared her use of.

She had to have heard what was said between himself and Edwin, even if she did not admit it, how else could she have learned what he did in permitting so many sorcerers to die?

But the fact remained that she needed his help, even if she did not want it.

So Gaius stood, leaving the quarters as quietly as he could manage, in case Merlin was still awake, and taking the steps down to the dungeons, taking a separate tunnel that led directly to his destination, rather than the one that passed by the two soldiers always sitting guard (which he remained blissfully unaware as the way that Merlin took).

He took a torch from the wall and descended slowly down the corridor until he found himself in the cave at long last.

"Hello?" he called cautiously into the vast darkness, the only light coming from his illuminating torch. "It is me, Gaius."

There was a sound of scales scraping against stone and air whistling from the flapping of large wings as the Great Dragon flew up from where he had been resting in order to be seen on the nearby ledge of rock across from Gaius.

"How old a man can become and yet change so little," Kilgharrah intoned.

"You have not changed either," Gaius responded solemnly.

"Twenty years, almost a lifetime to make the short journey back to where you began," Kilgharrah spoke with a subtle jibe towards Gaius, but he ignored it.

"I'm not here for myself," he said.

"The girl?" the Great Dragon surmised.

"You know about Merlin?" He phrased it as a question, but they both knew it was not.

"You are not the only visitor I have had of late," Kilgharrah replied. "You have struggled against her destiny, but you can no more prevent it than she can."

"So it is true, then?" Gaius pressed.

"Oh, yes," Kilgharrah uttered in agreement, nodding his great head. "She and the young Pendragon one day will unite the land of Albion."

"But she is in danger," Gaius said, fear for his ward leaking into his voice.

That statement seemed to amuse the dragon. "No, it is my jailor who stands in peril."

It was always clear how much distaste Kilgharrah held for Uther, but this time Gaius needed an answer, an explanation. "Must Uther be sacrificed for the girl?"

"Their time cannot come until his has past," Kilgharrah said, his voice loud and echoing in the cave so that it seemed to come from several different directions.

"But is that time now?"

The dragon merely chuckled in reply. "That is of your choosing."

"I will not choose between them," Gaius called to the dragon.

"Then turn a blind eye," Kilgharrah invited of him. "That is, after all, your talent."

And in that moment, he sounded so very much like Merlin, or perhaps, it was Merlin who sounded so very much like him?

* * *

Arthur had seen her coming a mile away, and he had been expecting it; Gaius was, after all, her uncle, and the news of his sacking must have been a shock.

"You know it's not right," Merlin said, without bothering with any formalities, which was her usual. "Gaius is getting old, sure, but he's not senile, he knows what he's doing!"

Arthur stabbed his sword into the ground to wheel around to face his former maid-servant. Truth be told, he did miss her as his maid-servant, mostly because the others that had been assigned to him weren't up to par. Merlin had a way of relaxing the atmosphere and inspiring him to be better, but now it seemed she, herself, was a bundle of tension.

He could still see the thick bandage around her arm hiding the healing wound from her stabbing and there were thick crescent circles under her eyes.

"Look, he made a mistake, all right?" he said firmly. "A mistake that nearly killed Morgana. Besides, it wasn't the only one."

Her blue eyes were defiant. "What are you going on about?"

"Edwin said his work was riddled with errors," Arthur said quietly, noticing a sharp change in Merlin's demeanor.

Her hands clenched into fists at her side and she squared her jaw. "And you trust the word of a man you hardly know over Gaius? Besides, I would know if he'd made any mistakes!"

And then she stormed off before he could say anything else, so Arthur vented his frustration on the practice dummy in front of him.

* * *

Merlin watched Gaius ride out of Camelot with a dark expression creasing her face. There was no denying that she was furious with him concerning the matters of the Great Purge, anyone would be, but Merlin still trusted Edwin far less than Gaius, and the knowledge that he was only in Camelot for revenge had Merlin on edge.

She tried to keep an eye on the elusive sorcerer, but that proved rather difficult and Merlin lost him by the time night fell, and it was only when Arthur came rushing through the corridors that she realized he'd already played his hand.

"Merlin!" he called. "Find Edwin, my father has Morgana's illness!"

Merlin raced on swift feet to the guest quarters that Edwin had taken up residence within, throwing the door open with a loud bang, only to stare at the orange flames encircling a pillar to which Gaius (when had he returned to Camelot?) was backed against.

Edwin turned impassively towards her accusing eyes as Gaius defended himself.

"He was trying to kill the king, I couldn't let him."

"I can rule the kingdom now," Edwin said with a smile that lit his cold eyes before extending a hand to Merlin. "And with you at my side, we can be all-powerful. Think of it, the two of us!"

There was a manic gleam in his eyes that reminded Merlin of Girec and made her want to take a step back, but she held her ground.

"I don't think so," she replied, cold and direct, "I could never ally myself with someone who uses dark magic."

His expression darkened. "It's your loss, Merlin." And he lifted an arm to use his magic to raise an axe from where it was mounted on the wall, flinging it towards Merlin.

Merlin didn't move as it came closer and closer, only to stop midair as the Merlin reached out with her own magic, her eyes blazing gold.

" _ **Swilte, Merlin,"**_  Edwin breathed, his own eyes attaining a similar golden color, but the spell did him no good as Merlin's eyes gleamed brighter as she sent the axe hurtling back to collide with his chest.

Two men dead by her hand in less than two weeks…Merlin felt sick, but she tried to ignore it as best as she could as the flames abated, instead choosing to dart to the table stacked with Edwin's things, grabbing the box that held the Elanthia Beetles, before shooting out of the room before Gaius could question her.

Uther certainly looked quite ill when she entered his chambers, his skin a sickly sheen of grey.

Merlin knew the spell to remove the beetle, the problem was, she'd never used it before, so there was a possibility for failure…but if she did nothing he still died.

Not that it mattered to her; Merlin hated Uther, but Arthur would be distraught.

She moved forward to place her hands on either side of the king's head, closing her eyes and wrinkling her brow in concentration.

" _ **Bebeode þe arisan ealdu. Áblinnen,"**_  Merlin spoke softly, sending a thin tendril of magic into Uther's head where the beetle was gnawing on his brain before pulling it out to crush it in her hand.

* * *

When Arthur saw Merlin again, she was sitting on a stone bench admiring what appeared to be a wind chime of sorts. Only instead of metal cylinders hanging from the top piece, they were crystals, ranging from clear to deep purple, a few feathers, what appeared to be a ball of twine, and a small pouch filled with a substance he could not ascertain.

Merlin noticed his perplexed expression. "Nice, isn't it? My cousin sent it to me."

"You have a cousin?" the fact seemed to startle Arthur who couldn't imagine a miniature Merlin running around.

"Sort of," Merlin said, but she did not elaborate, clearing her throat, "I hear there's an opening as the maid-servant to the prince."

Arthur's eyes widened. "I wouldn't've thought you'd want your job back after last time…"

Merlin's smile became brittle. "Arthur, I killed someone last night…it seems an unfortunate certainty that people are going to die around the Pendragon family." She heaved a sigh. "We don't see the world the same, you know? It's very black and white for you, but it isn't for me…and I'd rather like to avoid killing if it isn't necessary."

"I understand," Arthur said, and this time he meant it. "So, when can you start? I need someone to wash my clothes, repair my armor, sweep my fireplace, change my bed sheets—"

"You really do delight in making my life difficult, don't you?" Merlin asked him shrewdly.

"I haven't any idea what you're talking about," he denied and Merlin rolled her eyes for good measure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone recognize the gift Caedmon sent Merlin? It's a Sorcerer's Chime similar to what Alice had hanging in the inn. I really like the idea of Merlin having a thing with crystals.
> 
> So Arthur and Merlin have made up but now Merlin's mad at Gaius, how fun is that?


	19. The Desire of the Sidhe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me tell you, the Gates of Avalon was one of those episodes I really hate to write, so I'm going to mesh into one chapter, because I really want to get to Mordred sooner rather than later.
> 
> I'm always glad for the new love this fic receives. It's one of my favorite to write, well, I like to write them all, but this one is one that's more fun than not.
> 
> I know FemMerlinxPercival isn't all that common (if at all) so I'm glad for the continued support.

The marketplace was bustling with a crowd of people moving to investigate the products up for sale and Merlin tagged along after Gwen, having promised to come with her the day before.

"Are you sure Arthur won't miss you?" Gwen asked for the third time, linking her arm with Merlin's so as not to lose her friend.

"Of course he'll miss me," Merlin said, throwing a wink Gwen's way, "but you know how much I hate hunting, so I feigned being ill and made one of the other servants go instead."

Of course, she knew it hadn't really surprised Arthur, given how she always voiced distaste towards going on his hunting trips, for several rather obvious reasons.

"I pity your replacement," Gwen laughed, examining a few fabrics with a vague interest.

"Better them than me having to go on a hunt," Merlin replied with a small shudder. "Give me training with Arthur any day."

"But you  _do_  have that every day," Gwen pointed out, examining a durable lavender-colored material.

Merlin waved a hand. "That's a minor detail."

Gwen arched an eyebrow before paying for the fabric with a few coins from her pouch. "You know, you would look very pretty in a dress, you were stunning in Morgana's gown, remember?"

"It's easy to look stunning when you're wearing a gown like that," Merlin countering, "besides, gowns aren't really practical in my line of work, which seems to be 'just how long can Merlin keep Arthur from getting himself killed?'"

A stream of giggles parted Gwen's lips at that, because Merlin wasn't really wrong.

"And don't think about asking me to let my hair out of my plait," Merlin added before Gwen could indeed mention it. "I'm not changing anything, nope, I'm going to stay the way I am with my strange fashion sense and sarcastic attitude,  _thank you very much."_

Gwen shook her head fondly. "You really are the strangest person I know."

"Well, I don't have a lot of competition there," Merlin conceded, reaching a hand up to her dangling earring.

Gwen knew that her friend had an odd taste for style –if the masculine clothes, one vambrace strapped to her arm, small metal cylinder earring weren't making it obvious enough– but having two earrings made from very different materials was a bit obvious. She had one of metal and now one that appeared to be made of a quartz of some kind.

"Anyways," Merlin added, "Morgana got me some new shirts for technically saving her life."

"There is no technically," Gwen admonished. "You did save her life."

"I only repaired the damage that had been done by another," Merlin sang as they made their way in the direction of Gwen's cottage, laughing the whole way.

* * *

Well, it wasn't everyday that Arthur ran into a girl whilst out hunting, but Merlin still found it to be a rather strange course of events.

She arched an eyebrow towards Arthur where he was standing at his father's side in the council chambers and he gave her a look in reply that made Merlin smirk.

Technically speaking, it was a girl and her father, and they both held some very strangely carved staffs in their hands, but Merlin could see what about the girl had attracted Arthur; she was after all, very pretty, with her blue eyes and golden brown tresses.

"My name is Aulfric, heir to Tír-Mòr," the father said before extending a hand to the maiden at his side. "This is my daughter, Sophia."

Sophia gave a respectful nod.

"You're a long way from home," Uther said, leaning back in his throne. "What brings you to Camelot?"

"Our home was sacked by raiders, we barely escaped with what few possessions we could carry," Aulfric explained.

"These are dangerous times," Uther remarked diplomatically. "What will you do?"

"We will travel west to Caerleon where we have family, and, I hope, a new life."

"You will stay here awhile, break your journey," Uther invited and Merlin glanced towards Arthur, seeing just how pleased he appeared to be at the knowledge that Sophia would be staying a few days more. "A noble family like yours is always welcome in Camelot."

And then Merlin watched as they were escorted out of the hall.

"I take it you had an eventful hunt?" she mentioned to Arthur once all the persons had vacated the hall.

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about," Arthur said, striding out of the doors so fast that Merlin had to jog beside him in order to keep up.

"I do have eyes, you know," Merlin mentioned, gesturing at her face as though it wasn't obvious. "You could hardly take your eyes off her, could you? You're… _infatuated!"_  she accused, jabbing a finger at him as she came up with the proper word.

"I am  _not!"_  Arthur insisted, slightly affronted.

"I'm actually surprised," Merlin mentioned, examining him closely, "I wasn't aware that was something you could experience."

"Don't make me send you to the stocks!"

Merlin arched a sardonic eyebrow. "And what would that change about my personality?"

She wasn't wrong there and Arthur fought against slapping his hand to his forehead. "Just make sure you put her in a decent room, will you?"

"A decent room?" Merlin repeated. "Is that all?"

"Yes, like next door, the room next to mine would be perfect."

Infatuated was one thing, Merlin was sure, but she had never seen Arthur like this before…so smitten to insist upon a maiden sleeping in the room next to his.

"Is there a problem?" he demanded of her and Merlin schooled her expression perfectly.

"No," she said, "no problem."

There was something very off about the situation, though, that could not be denied.

* * *

Merlin really hated Arthur, with a deep and burning passion, and by that she meant she'd like to roast him over an open flame, slowly and painfully.

Of  _course,_  Arthur decided to show Sophia Camelot on the day he was supposed to go on patrol with his father and then leave Merlin to deal with the consequences.

"Sire?" Merlin ducked her head respectfully as Uther fixed the clasps on his cloak, raising his eyes to where Merlin was. "I have a message from your son."

His cold eyes surveyed her. "Proceed," he said.

"Your son wished me to convey his apologies for choosing not to go on patrol with you today," Merlin recited the words she'd carefully gone over in her mind for the past half hour. "He has joined Sir Leon's patrol given how terribly his last patrol went and he wanted the next time he patrolled with you to go off without a hitch."

Merlin couldn't have helped but been surprised when Uther accepted the explanation with a hint of pride in his eyes, but at least Merlin wasn't going to end up in the stocks, which was what Merlin preferred to not happen.

She was dismissed and Merlin gave a short bow before leaving on quick-moving feet, privately thanking Leon for agreeing to cover for the prince and subsequently almost crashing into Morgana as she rounded the corner.

Merlin reached a hand out to steady Morgana, stuttering out an apology. "Sorry, Morgana, wasn't looking where I was going—"

But it quickly became clear that Morgana didn't care that Merlin had almost run into her.

"Morgana, are you all right?" Merlin asked, frowning as she took in the pallor of her skin and the tiredness in her eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine," Morgana said, speaking quickly.

Merlin blocked her way. "No, you're not," she countered, staring her down. "What's wrong, Morgana?"

The expression in her eyes was one that was conflicted. "It's just…I had another dream, and Gaius thinks it's nothing."

Merlin wrinkled her nose at the mention of the guardian she was barely speaking to after learning he had allowed sorcerers to die for merely being what they were.

"But you don't," Merlin said, speaking gently, "so what was the dream about?"

"Arthur," Morgana said uneasily, "lying underwater, drowning, and there's a woman standing over him watching him die, and it's the woman, Sophia."

Merlin's lips thinned into a line and her brow creased in thought.

"You think I should take it seriously?" Morgana noted in surprise.

"Don't you?" Merlin responded, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, yes, but Gaius says they're just dreams—"

Merlin gave a derisive snort. "Of course he did," she bit out, looking very vexed. "Let me know if you have any other dreams, all right?"

"All right," Morgana said before Merlin moved to the Court Physician quarters.

"Why did you tell Morgana that her dream was just a dream?" she demanded of Gaius and the older man gave a very put-upon sigh.

"Because I had hoped that was all it was," he said, "what do you know about Seers?"

"Sorcerers who possess foresight?" Merlin asked. "You think Morgana's a Seer?"

Gaius gave a nod of agreement. "It's said to be an innate ability. Those who have it are born that way. Some aren't even aware that what they see is the future. It comes to them in their dreams…and the night before Sophia and Aulfric came to Camelot, Morgana had a dream about Sophia."

Merlin's frown deepened. "But if it's an innate talent, surely she's had visions before?"

"She has, and many of the things she said she'd dreamt came to pass. I kept it a secret from Uther, of course. The gift of prophecy is too close to the work of magic."

"So Sophia's interest in Arthur has nothing to do with her being grateful for him rescuing her and her father?" Merlin surmised. "Who are they?"

"I can't be sure," Gaius said, "But Aulfric caught me in Sophia's room and, in a flash of anger, his eyes changed color."

"To what?" Merlin said befuddled, crossing her arms. "Gold?"

"No, that was the curious thing," Gaius said, "they bled red."

And Merlin had a very bad feeling.

* * *

The next day Merlin contemplated killing Arthur no less than seven times, and they were all quite justified, if you asked her.

Arthur skipped a knighting ceremony that he had agreed to attend previously, which was to say before Sophia and Aulfric had arrived, in order to frolic out in the woods with Sophia (at least, that was what it seemed like and Merlin didn't really want to think about what they were really up to).

So, of course it fell to Merlin to bumble out another excuse for where the king's son was. This excuse was far less plausible than the first but Merlin was surprised when the king accepted it as fact.

Maybe it was because he didn't want to believe that his son was shirking his duties to spend time with a girl he'd barely met.

"Remind me to kill Arthur," Merlin said to Gwen as she went with her to collect lunch for Morgana who had decided to take lunch in her room, citing that she was unwell.

"I'm sure he'll be back to normal once they've gone," Gwen said, but it was clear Sophia and her father made the servant uneasy.

"If he isn't," Merlin grumbled, "then I'm going to knock him over the head with a log and see if that does the trick."

" _Merlin!"_  Gwen reproached, but the smile on her lips ruined the image.

"I'm just saying I should keep the option open," Merlin wheedled. "I mean, he can't aggravate me when he's unconscious… _ooh,_  maybe I should try that whenever I get annoyed with him." Her eyes lit up at the mere prospect.

"Then you'd give him permanent brain damage," Gwen giggled.

"Is that supposed to make a difference?"

Gwen's laughter echoed through the hall.

* * *

Merlin paused around the corner that led to Sophia's room at the sound of a door opening and Sophia's soft voice.

"He's ready," Sophia said. "Tomorrow he'll do what we need him to."

"Good," Aulfric said, enthused by her apparent progress, "you have done well. Now I must go to the elders."

And Merlin peered slightly around the corner in order to see Sophia reenter her room, shutting the door behind her and Aulfric continuing down the corridor before taking the stairs to the level below and Merlin followed him on swift but silent feet.

It was harder to keep quiet in the forest, but it was a talent that all Druids possessed from years and Merlin had perfected from watching them, so it wasn't nearly as difficult as it seemed, for Merlin at least.

She followed Aulfric for quite some time, on horse-back and on foot over the Darkling Woods. The night had grown dark and the only way for Merlin to see was by an enchantment upon her eyes and an invisibility spell over herself and Triton kept them from being seen.

Merlin dismounted and made a shushing motion towards the horse before moving on silent feet to where Aulfric had come out at the edge of a lake.

She could not help but gaze in awe upon it. Merlin had heard tales of the wonders the Lake of Avalon, its healing properties were a wonder to behold, if legends were to be believed. You could practically feel the magic coming off it…how could she have not known where the lake was? Was it enchanted to remain hidden?

Before Merlin had a chance to consider it, Aulfric had begun to speak. "I seek an audience with the Sidhe elders!  _ **Not gwithim sar! Dar Libran trim shah!"**_

Merlin watched with wide eyes as he lifted his odd staff into the air and the area above the lake glowed a faint blue and small balls of light appeared moving feverishly through the air. And then her eyes gleamed gold and the world around her seemed to slow down, revealing the balls of light to be something akin to faeries.

They were small and blue with wings as fragile as a butterfly's and they danced over the water and fluttered through the air.

And reflected in the water she could see Avalon, bright and gleaming and far more beautiful than anything Merlin had seen previously.

"I come before you to plead," Aulfric continued, apparently unfazed by the appearance of Avalon, "for the chance to win passage back to Avalon and a life of immortality!"

One faerie-like being approached him and Merlin surmised that this was one of the elders that Aulfric had spoken of to his daughter before he'd left.

It pointed to the man and spoke in a low voice. "Your punishment for killing another Sidhe is a mortal body and a mortal life. You will never be able to return to Avalon."

"The crime was mine," Aulfric was close to pleading with the 'Sidhe', "not my daughter's."

"The gates of Avalon remain closed to your daughter," the being replied coldly, not swayed in the slightest. "Unless the soul of a mortal prince be offered up to them."

" _Thank you!"_  Aulfric cried gratefully. "An immortal life for my daughter is all that I desire, so I promise you the soul of the greatest prince of all, Arthur Pendragon!"

Merlin breathed in sharply.  _Oh, this wasn't good, this wasn't good at all._  And she left Aulfric to race quietly to Triton's side before rushing back to the palace as though fire was licking at their heels to where Gaius was waiting to hear from her.

She told him everything in a bit of a rush.

"The Lake of Avalon?" Gaius pressed, leaning against his desk. "You're certain?"

" _Yes,"_  Merlin insisted.

"Mortals are only supposed to glimpse Avalon in the moment before death," Gaius continued, fitting his chin in his hand as he considered her. "Yet you saw it…what was it like?"

"Beautiful, beyond all imagining," Merlin conceded a bit wistfully before shaking her head to clear her thoughts. "But that's not important right now, what's important is that whoever these 'Sidhe' faeries are, they're going to have Arthur sacrificed, which normally I'd be all for, but not today."

"The Sidhe?" Gaius was wearing a look that boded ill. "They're the immortal race of Avalon, masters of enchantment and a cruel race of beings."

"So we know for certain now that Arthur's been enchanted," Merlin grumbled, "there's no way anyone would fall for someone that much after only two days."

Merlin didn't believe in love at first sight, and for good reason. She'd seen people profess their undying love to one person only to switch their feelings to another in a matter of days.

"Almost certainly," Gaius agreed solemnly. "I'm afraid Morgana's dream is coming true."

* * *

Aulfric's plan came into action quite early the very next day, and Merlin couldn't help but be annoyed at how quickly Arthur had fallen for Sophia's charms. But a proposal of marriage was a bit much.

Of course, the king had denied the request, given the current events. Sophia couldn't strengthen the kingdom and Arthur had only known her for two days.

"You don't know what you're doing," Merlin said to Arthur with certainty as he packed a bag. "You've been  _enchanted!_  She's not in love with you, Arthur!"

"I told you people would try to keep us apart," came Sophia's voice from doorway and Merlin turned to glare at the girl and her father. There was a light in their eyes, probably eagerness to kill Arthur and allow Sophia to become immortal once more.

"I know," Arthur spoke so sincerely that Merlin wanted to grab him by the chain mail and rattle him until he saw sense. "I won't let that happen."

Merlin snapped her fingers at Arthur. "Look at me, you  _prat,_  you've been  _enchanted_ , that's all what she wants, none of these thoughts are your own!"

"We can elope together," Sophia appealed, coming forward and the spell she'd cast on him seemed to work better when she was closer; Merlin could see the lines of tension in his shoulders smooth and relax. "Get away from this place, these people."

"Get away like drown in the Lake of Avalon, you mean?" Merlin remarked with narrowed eyes and Aulfric's jumped to hers. "That's right, I saw it all." She turned to look upon Arthur again. "They're going to sacrifice you to gain immortality. They aren't human! They're  _Sidhe!"_

Merlin dropped a hand to the sword resting at her waist and Aulfric moved surprisingly quick for a man his age, aiming his staff at Merlin and uttering a spell.

" _ **Na þing biþ!"**_  he called and Merlin was struck against the wall by what felt like an electric shock to her chest, and the world faded to blackness.

* * *

It took more time than Merlin was willing to admit for her unconsciousness to wear off, and when it had, Merlin found herself in Arthur's room, with the prince was long gone and a dull ringing in her head that didn't stop until she'd grabbed Triton from the stables and made her to the Darkling Woods.

She could hear the rushing of her own blood in her ears, and not much else until she heard Aulfric's chanting and she dismounted, making haste towards the origin of the chant.

Sophia was in the lake with her hand outstretched over the surface of the water, though not touching it and Arthur was nowhere to be seen.

" _ **Ia bend dǽdon níwe,"**_  Aulfric intoned, one hand raised, extending towards the figures in the lake, the other holding to his staff.  _ **"Cúðon gare íewe deahl sǽ áre. Sé áre. Ig bæþ deahl sǽ néah. Déaþ ór cwylþ óga him. An wén. Flíete á. Dómdæg. Déaþ ór cwylþ óga him. An wén. Flíete á. Dómdæg. Déaþ ór cwylþ óga him, Arthur Pendragon. Ia bend dǽdon níwe. Cúðon gare íewe deahl sǽ néah. Sé áre. Ig bæþ deahl sǽ néah. An wén. Flíete á. Dómdæg. Déaþ ór cwylþ óga him."**_

Arthur was running out of air, so Merlin had to move quickly. As Aulfric continued chanting, Merlin caught sight of Sophia's staff, lying forgotten on the ground.

_Payback._

" _ **Onbregdan,"**_  she murmured and the staff flew towards her and she just barely caught it in her hands, and it was a bit heavier than what she had been expecting, but its weight mattered not to her as she pointed it at Aulfric.

" _ **Swilte,"**_  Merlin said, causing Aulfric to turn, " _ **gold beorþ!"**_

A great bolt of light went from the staff to hit Aulfric in the chest and he gave a mighty yell before exploding, leaving nothing behind, not even his staff was safe from the strike.

Sophia screamed when she saw what had become of her father.

"Father!" she cried, trying to rush to where Merlin had struck him down, but the water slowed her down. "No!  _No!"_

Arthur was running out of time and Sophia needed to be dealt with quickly (and regretfully), so Merlin turned the staff on her next and if she saw the silent plea in her eyes, she didn't mention it.

" _ **Acwele!"**_

A second bolt of light was thrown, this time impacting Sophia, and she only gave a small scream before she too exploded into small fragments, leaving Merlin alone above the surface of the water.

"I swear to the goddess if you're dead," Merlin grumbled under her breath, dropping the staff and ripping off her jacket, and with it her sword before plunging into the water. "Arthur! Can you hear me?"

But she received no reply so dived deeper in, opening her eyes under the water and holding her breath. The water was clear, which was not strange to Merlin in the slightest, except that there seemed to be an opaque quality to the water as she went in deeper, presumably coming closer to Arthur.

Merlin suspected that might have been the Sidhe's doing, given the fact that they were master enchanters, but their spells couldn't stop Merlin.

A golden glow lit her eyes and the opaque quality faded and the water around her became clear enough for Merlin to see the glint of sunlight breaking through water to reflect off metal and Arthur had been wearing a lot of metal the last time she'd seen him.

And then she saw him and Merlin grasped chain mail, pulling him towards her before locking an arm around him and yanking him towards the surface.

And they broke through with Merlin gasping for air and Arthur releasing a few gurgles as the water he'd swallowed came out through him mouth.

"I don't get paid nearly enough to save your sorry ass every week," Merlin gasped as she tugged him towards the edge of the lakeside. "I need a raise."

But Arthur, blissfully unconscious, gave no reply, and Merlin groaned loudly, bemoaning why she'd agreed to come back on as his maid-servant in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, The Gates of Avalon is done, thank the gods, and that means next chapter we get to meet Mordred, and I'm so excited about it! Maybe Percival's brothers will show up sooner or later, but I'm not really sure when…
> 
> Its a fanfic-writing weekend! If I'm lucky, Claimed By Death will be updated before the night is done!


	20. The Sought Druid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh! Excitement concerning Percival's brothers, I see. They won't show up yet, so it might be a few more chapters until they meet her, but it'll be fun, I promise. The twins are a real crack.
> 
> And at last we'll get to meet young Mordred in this chapter, which has been something I've been looking forward to for awhile.
> 
> Merlin gets into far much trouble doing absolutely nothing, which I find hilarious.

Merlin examined the stall of apples, grasping one and feeling it for any imperfections before pulling out a coin to hand to the vendor who gave her a small smile in return.

"Look after yourself, Merlin," the woman winked.

"I always do," Merlin replied, continuing down the road as she bit into the apple.

She'd been running errands for Gaius and Arthur respectively all morning and she was sure she smelled like an herbal tincture from the sheer number she had had to make and take to the patients that needed them.

Merlin was just glad everything for that morning was over and done with so that Merlin could have some breathing room, which she had been sorely lacking since the time she'd woken up.

As usual, she blamed Arthur, because when _wasn't_ it Arthur's fault? He was the one that shoved all those duties on Merlin in one day, the _tosspot_ …why couldn't he be a normal person and spread them out over the course of a few days?

Merlin took another aggressive bite to the apple as she walked from the lower town to the upper town and then into the stone courtyard, giving a nod to the guards of the great double doors that led into the palace before taking those steps two at a time, making in the direction of Gaius' quarters when a scream pierced through Merlin's mind and she froze, dropping the apple.

It was not a scream that could be heard by others, it had come solely from the mind of another magical being. But who was it?

Merlin narrowed her eyes, taking the small staircase down to the side corridor that led into the stone courtyard.

 _Help_ , a voice called weakly to her and Merlin knew it to be the same voice from before, the one that had been in pain. _Help me, please!_

Merlin opened the door to peer out into the courtyard that was, for the most part, deserted, barring the few servants that were flitting about, the two guards on duty, and a few who had come to speak to the king. She could sense him…where was he?

 _Help me, please!_ The voice begged again and Merlin looked around again, her eyes focusing on a figure in a dark green cloak, huddled under a stone ledge. From where she was, Merlin could make out a mop of dark hair and a pair of bright blue eyes, and it was those eyes that were fastened on her, directing his thoughts to her mind. _Please, you have to help me!_

Merlin's eyes ripped from his, glancing towards the courtyard entrance where several more guards had entered the square.

One of them pointed to a covered wheelbarrow that had been dropped off earlier with supplies for the kitchen. "Search in there. Take the other side." Then the guard went to the nearest servant he saw. "You, did you see a boy run in here?"

The servant shook his head hastily, clearly wanting to be as far away from the guard as possible. Merlin could imagine why; some of the guards had reputations as violent individuals.

 _They're searching for me_ , the boy sent her way and Merlin's eyes flashed to his again, narrowing suspiciously.

 _Why?_ She sent back to him.

 _They're going to kill me_ , he said, his words tainted with his fear.

Merlin didn't have to hazard a guess as to why. No matter how kindly and gentle the Druids may have been, Uther still considered them to be a threat to his rule, especially since the brief takeover of Camelot by a Druid, in fact, he probably considered them even more of a threat than before because of the brief takeover, which had been entirely Merlin's fault.

"Guards! In here!" a guard called and the guards moved towards the area closest to the gate on the east side, giving the boy only a small window of when he could run so Merlin opened the side-door further, curling her fingers at him in a 'come hither' gesture.

 _Run, now!_ She thought.

The boy struggled to his feet, clutching his arm as he ran to where Merlin was holding the door for him. But he was too slow.

A guard saw him as he rushed past, drawing his sword with an eager cry of "Hey, there he is! Alert the rest of the guards!"

Merlin jammed the door behind the boy, grabbing his hand and nearly jerking him up the stairwell, moving fast in her haste to find him a safe place to hide.

They came out in a hallway, but Merlin drew short about taking him down it when she heard the voices of the guards echoing down it, so they took the curved staircase up to the next level.

Morgana's room was the first one in sight and Merlin didn't even think, she just yanked the door open and shoved them both inside, clearly interrupting Morgana, who stopped laughing at something that Gwen had said when Merlin shut the door behind them.

"Have you forgotten how to knock, Merlin?" she asked clearly amused before taking note of the young boy that Merlin had her arms around.

"I'm sorry Morgana but I didn't really have a choice," Merlin said breathlessly, "the guards are after him and I couldn't just let them take him."

There was a sort of desperation in Merlin's eyes and it was one that Morgana could sympathize with as she shared a glance with Gwen. The boy was dressed in worn clothes, thread-bare and sturdy, made for comfort in the wild, if nothing else; they were the clothes of a Druid. And Morgana had seen far too many Druids executed for being nothing less than what they were born to be.

Morgana's eyes fastened on the boy and there was a sense of familiarity that trickled in the back of her mind, only to be jolted out of it by the harsh knock on the door.

"My Lady? _My Lady!"_

Morgana gave a jerk of her head towards the curtain close to the window. "In there."

Merlin pulled the boy until the pair were both obscured from sight by the crimson cloth and then Morgana opened the door with Gwen standing politely at her side.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, My Lady," the guard said as the boy collapsed into Merlin's arms, and she had to sink to the floor to cushion him from the hard stone. "We're searching for a young Druid boy. We believe he came this way."

Cold fury bit at Merlin's heart, that those in Camelot would so swiftly execute a child for doing nothing but being what he was: a Druid. The boy reminded her a bit of Caedmon, but Caedmon was younger and he never strayed from his clan, he knew what doing such a thing meant.

"I haven't seen anyone," came Morgana's voice. "It's just me and my maid."

"Best keep the door locked till we find him."

"Of course," Morgana said simply, "thank you."

A moment later the door had shut and Morgana and Gwen had made their way around the curtain to see Merlin examining the boy's bloody arm.

"What happened?" Gwen asked, her dark eyes wide.

"One of the guards must have cut him when he was fleeing them," Merlin said with an angry hiss, examining the wound. "I need to treat it before it becomes infected…but there are too many guards around for me to go and make a poultice."

"You'll have to do without it for now," Gwen said, crouching closer and pressing Merlin for details. "Merlin, what do you need?"

Merlin pressed a hand to the boy's brow, feeling the heat under the skin. "I need a wet cloth to cool his skin."

And Gwen moved to comply while Merlin's eyes flickered towards Morgana.

"Thank you," she said quietly and the lady gave her a small smile in return.

* * *

It took them an _hour_ to prepare for the execution of the Druid that the boy had come with and that was probably the worst part of it. Those in Camelot now found it so common to see executions and it made Merlin want to put _Uther's_ head on the chopping block.

Morgana and Merlin stood at her balcony, not hidden but not clear to see, watching the Square below as the man was brought out to be executed. There was a bit of resignation in his face as he stood with his spine straight as Uther walked out onto the main balcony with Arthur following after. Merlin narrowed her eyes at Arthur but his face was pinched and his lips were turned down in a frown; clearly he didn't approve of his father executing a man who had only come to Camelot for supplies.

"People of Camelot," Uther intoned, "the man before you is guilty of using enchantments and magic. Under our law, the sentence for this crime is death. We're still searching for his accomplice. Anyone found harboring the boy is guilty of conspiracy, and will be executed as a traitor. Let this serve as a warning to your people."

Morgana reached for Merlin's hand and Merlin squeezed it comfortingly with her face set in a stony mask.

"You have let your fear of magic turn to hate," the man said, unsurprised by the outcome, and Merlin couldn't help but admire him for being so unafraid in the face of death. "I _pity_ you."

"I can't watch this," Morgana said, and neither could Merlin.

Morgana left the balcony to sit down with the boy but all Merlin did was turn away from the view, her eyes dead and staring at the wall, pressing a hand to her mouth, feeling the bile roiling in her stomach.

There was the dull sound of the axe striking down followed by a blood-curdling scream of a child in Merlin's mind, echoing and sharp, and Merlin jumped as the mirror she was standing beside cracked suddenly in the boy's pain.

Merlin looked at the shattered pieces, unease coiling deep inside her.

* * *

The blue liquid sloshed around in the flask that Merlin was holding up to the light, dutifully ignoring Gaius' presence, which was something she had done even before she had found herself at odds with her guardian; Merlin preferred to work in silence and uninterrupted.

"Is this for someone in particular?" Gaius asked lightly, interrupting her, which she didn't appreciate, going off of how she frowned at him for doing so.

"A patient," Merlin didn't elaborate, replacing the tincture over the fire and moving to mash together some berries and roots to make a paste for the Druid boy's wound; she could only leave it untreated for so long before infection would spread.

"Please tell me you haven't gotten yourself involved in this Druid business, Merlin," Gaius warned, "you already have enough difficulty keeping your own secret under wraps."

"I think I actually manage just fine with my secret, thank you very much," Merlin said stiffly, spooning the paste into a smaller bowl before pouring the blue liquid into a small jar to be taken by the mouth. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Gwen is running a fever and she's got a cut that I need to treat."

And with that said, she grabbed a few bandages and wrenched the door open, disappearing behind it before Gaius could even consider stopping her, and it swung shut behind her, leaving her guardian to give a sigh.

* * *

When she entered Morgana's chambers, Morgana spoke in a low voice. "He's sleeping for now; I only just got him to close his eyes."

Merlin gave a small sigh of relief. "That's good. Do you know how he is? Has he said anything?"

"I think he may have lost a portion of his blood from that cut," Morgana said quietly, glancing to where the boy was hidden behind the curtain. "He's very pale and sluggish…and he hasn't said a word, he won't even tell me his name."

Merlin said nothing to that, setting down her healer supplies on the table as quietly as possible so as not to awaken the boy.

"I know you didn't have to help him, so thank you," Merlin said to her quietly, tugging at the end of her tight plait.

"I wouldn't see an innocent child executed," Morgana said sharply before quickly quieting and the rustling sound beyond the crimson curtain. "What harm has he ever done anyone?"

Merlin gave a helpless shrug. "Uther's been on a warpath since a Druid took over Camelot, and he finds fault in anyone that's used magic, even if it was for a good cause." Her lips thinned into a line.

"Does that make you angry?"

"Doesn't it make you?" Merlin arched an eyebrow at her friend. "My godfather is a Druid Chieftain who has healed countless people who were near death with his skills in magical healing. Magic shouldn't be something that you are punished for having."

"What if…" Morgana wet her lips and started again. "What if magic isn't something you choose? What if it chooses you?"

Merlin's lips curled into a soft smile.

"What? What is it?"

"Sorry," Merlin said lightly, the smile still on her lips, "you just remind me of someone else; she has the same views."

And that was to say Merlin herself but she couldn't exactly blurt out to Morgana that she was actually a Warlock, having her magic since birth.

"We should meet one day," Morgana replied, her eyes glittering in amusement. "Besides, you took a risk as well, helping him, so why'd you do it?"

"I trust the Druids," Merlin said simply, "I know a boy close to his age and I never turned Caedmon away, so why would I turn him away?"

Morgana's eyes softened as she reached out to touch Merlin's arm. "Sometimes I think you are far too kind, Merlin…you truly are the best of us."

"I find that hard to believe," Merlin said with a small chuckle. "I believe a better word would naïve and far too trusting."

"It depends on the person, I think," Morgana replied easily.

Merlin flicked her braid over her shoulder. "So," she said, "what are we going to do? He can't stay here, not with Uther searching Camelot up and down for him."

"We have to find a way to get him back to his people," Morgana decided after a moment, wrapping a curl around her finger. "But getting past the patrols will be difficult."

 _If not impossible_. Merlin cursed Uther for hating those who used magic so much.

* * *

The next morning Merlin came to examine the boy again with Morgana hovering anxiously at her side as she changed his bandages for new ones, examining the wound.

"Is he going to be all right?" Morgana pressed.

"The wound's healing, see?" Merlin showed it to her and it certainly didn't look quite so irritated or red like it had the previous day.

"But his fever…" Morgana said nervously.

"It just hasn't broken yet, that's all," Merlin insisted, giving her friend a small smile. "Trust me, Morgana, I know what I'm doing."

"I know you do," Morgana was quick to agree, "I'm just worried about him is all."

Merlin opened her mouth to say something when there came the sound of fast approaching footsteps and a sharp rap on the door.

"Expecting anyone?" she asked Morgana with a quirked eyebrow and Morgana shook her head, pulling herself to her feet to draw the curtains and answer the door.

"Arthur," Morgana uttered in surprise. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

The prince strode past her into her room without so much as a "May I come in?" and Merlin couldn't help but roll her eyes, it was Arthur's typical arrogance.

"Don't get all excited," he drawled out, "it's not a social call. I'm looking for the Druid boy. I'm afraid I'm going to have to search your chambers."

"You are _not_ searching my chambers," Morgana insisted and Merlin leaned back so that she would be out of view from the crack in the curtains.

"Don't take it personally," Arthur replied. "I have to search the entire castle. It'll only take a few minutes."

Merlin gritted her teeth together in annoyance. Why couldn't Uther just believe that the boy had somehow found a way to make it past Camelot's gates, it wasn't like it was as difficult as he made it out to be. The boy probably wouldn't have had any trouble with it if he was at his full strength.

"I'm not having you mess up my things," Morgana said as Arthur moved to examine her closet as an ideal hiding place for a small Druid boy (Merlin didn't blame him, the closet did have some merit).

"I'm not interested in your things," Arthur countered. "I'm just looking for any evidence that the Druid boy's in the castle."

"Perhaps the Druid boy's hiding in your chambers," Morgana replied, her words just this side of scathing. "They're usually such a mess, you'd _never_ know."

"It's hardly my fault that I have such a lazy idiot for a servant."

Incredulity marred Merlin's face at that. _Lazy idiot?_ Oh, she was _definitely_ going to get him back for that…she wondered how he would feel about being beaned in the face with an apple; Merlin liked that idea very much.

"Really, can you still blame Merlin for your shortcomings? It's not that _hard_ to keep your own room orderly."

Merlin listened to them trade barbs for a few moments longer before Arthur finally went on his way without even bothering to check behind the curtain and Merlin couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

_Too close._

* * *

"Will you tell me about the Druids?" Morgana asked her once the door was locked again and Merlin was back to changing the boy's bandages and wetting another cloth to place it over the boy's forehead.

"I'm not sure there's enough time in a day to tell you about the Druids," Merlin smiled. "But maybe one day I will…I can tell you that there are some Druids who don't use magic and some that do, just as there are Druids who are kind and those that are cruel. In reality, they are no different from you or me."

"But you must have some stories about your time with them," Morgana said as Merlin knotted the bandage carefully.

" _Iseldir! Iseldir!" Merlin was twelve and curious as she tugged on her godfather's arm. "I want to see the Perilous Lands! Will you take me?"_

" _Iseldir! Teach me how to use magic to save people!" Merlin was fifteen and fierce._

" _Iseldir, why do people hate magic so much?" Merlin was seventeen and tired of hiding._

"I've got a few," Merlin said, blinking a few times to clear her thoughts. "But I'll tell you a few stories later, Morgana, when we've gotten the boy back to the Druids."

Morgana hummed in agreement, moving to fetch some water for herself as the boy's eyes slid open at long last.

 _Thank you, Emrys_ , came his weak voice in her mind and Merlin's eyes focused on him, confusion knotting her brow.

_Emrys? My name is not Emrys, my name is Merlin._

_Among my people_ , the boy spoke in her mind, _that is your name._

 _That's not possible_ , Merlin countered. _I have been among the Druids since I was a child and they only call me Merlin._

But the boy gave no answer, falling into a deep slumber once more, leaving Merlin in her confusion, and the best person to get answers from had to be the dragon locked in the lowest dungeon.

* * *

It was easy to bypass the guards this time around, probably having to do with just how busy they were searching for the Druid boy they could not find.

"No doubt you are here about the Druid boy," Kilgharrah said as soon as she had made her presence known.

Merlin chewed on the inside of her cheek, tightening her grip on the torch. "The boy…he called me Emrys."

"That is because it is your name," Kilgharrah spoke in that ancient voice of his.

"I've met Druids before, though," Merlin insisted, "I've spent a lot of time with Druids and not one has called me by that name."

But the Druids were always respectful towards her, something that the younger Merlin had always found a bit odd and chalked it up to her being the goddaughter of the Chieftain, and they'd only ever called her: Merlin or Lady Merlin.

"I suspect that was because you did not yet know your destiny," Kilgharrah said with a bit of amusement. "I believe they didn't want to burden you."

"How _kind,"_ Merlin drawled out sarcastically. "But how did the boy know who I am? Did the other Druids tell him?"

"There is much written about you that you have yet to read," the dragon said cryptically, as usual, before warning her, "You should not protect this boy."

"Not protect him?" Merlin repeated the words dubiously and incredulously. "He's just a _boy_ , Kilgharrah, a boy with magic and a boy that's injured; I'm a healer, I can't just step aside."

It went against everything she was to simply give up the boy who was clearly in need of help merely because of what the Great Dragon said.

"Helping the boy will only bring you further trouble," the dragon intoned. "Mark my words, Merlin, he is a danger to you and to your destiny."

Merlin curled her hand into a tight fist. "I don't _care_ about my destiny," she hissed angrily. "Enough people have died because of me as it is, I will _not_ be adding this boy to the list!"

And with that said, she took her torch and spun so fast on her heel that she made a ribbon of orange in the air before stalking off in the direction she had come, still fuming.

Kilgharrah sat on his perch, knowing what would come from her actions and wondering if he was right and wrong.

Perhaps Merlin could change one's fate from her own actions, he would just have to wait and watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, it's been awhile since I updated this fic, but I figured I might as well hammer this chapter out, especially since all the really good stuff is so far away…well, not so far away, I'm sure that Percival's brothers might make an appearance in a few chapters, but he and Merlin aren't going to meet up until 2x01 and that could be up to eleven chapters away (I miss my Mercival moments, obviously).
> 
> Don't expect another chapter for awhile, I'm still all over Tempest, A Shift in the Force, and Looking Beyond and I'm determined to finish Looking Beyond by this year (this summer if I'm lucky).
> 
> Iseldir should pop up in the next chapter, which I'm looking forward to because he's my favorite Druid.


	21. Fleeting Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile since an update which is mostly because I've been working on other fics and I had summer class to take over my life completely.
> 
> I've been binging on Merlin recently and I have so many ideas that won't even happen until Series 3, which means we've got to get through two more series first.
> 
> Mordred is an interesting character, even though we won't see a lot of him for awhile after this, but we may see Percival's twin brothers in the next chapter, but don't quote me on that.

It was early in the morning and the raven's wings were dark against the sky, fluttering through the air to come to a stop on a shoulder, extending its leg to the owner of the shoulder.

Fingers unbound the short letter from the bird to read its contents before murmuring a soft incantation that had eyes gleaming golden and reducing the letter to ash.

"How is he?" Morgana pressed as Merlin inspected the boy's bandages the next day after attending to Arthur, which explained the noticeable scowl present on her lips.

"His fever's broken, but he's still healing slower than expected," Merlin mused, redressing the injury, "he must have lost more blood than I'd originally thought."

"Is that why he's sleeping?" Gwen asked curiously as Morgana reached a hand forward to brush along his brow.

"If he was awake he'd probably be very sluggish…sleeping is better for him, I think." Merlin's brow furrowed as she moved to wash the bloodied tips of her fingers in the bowl on the table.

 _Morgana_ , came a tired murmur and Morgana jerked her hand back from his forehead.

"Did you hear that?" she asked out loud.

"What?" Gwen's brow furrowed and Merlin looked similarly confused.

"He said my name," Morgana insisted, eyes drifting down to the slumbering boy.

"He's unconscious," Merlin pointed out rather bluntly, "he's not saying _anything."_

"I didn't hear anything, either," Gwen agreed. "Maybe it was the wind."

But Morgana didn't look so sure and Merlin turned back a frown on her lips, because she was certain that the boy had uttered Morgana's name, just not out loud where they could hear it.

That was concerning, if the boy was using telepathy while he was unconscious then his control on his magic was very minimal.

"Are they still building that pyre?" Merlin asked instead, frosty anger in her voice betraying how she felt about the matter and it wasn't something that Morgana or even Gwen could find themselves disapproving of.

_What kind of good person would want to kill a child?_

The answer was rather clear.

Gwen moved to the window to see soldiers putting the wood together –all the better to burn you with– and she frowned. "Yes," she said.

"We have to get him out of the castle," Morgana said, not moving from her spot at the boy's side, placing a cool rag to his brow. "Uther will kill him if he finds him."

Merlin grunted in agreement. She didn't think she'd ever met anyone who was quite as ruthless as Uther was and he wasn't the type to be lenient, even if it was with children.

"And it'll be harder to get him out with all the extra patrols," Merlin said, following Gwen to the window to look down into the square. Ever since the boy arrived in Camelot Uther had increased the number of patrols in an effort to catch him before he made his way out of the village. "He can barely walk, it wouldn't be a good idea to try to get him out now."

"Wait until nightfall?" Morgana suggested.

"If nothing else," Merlin murmured, "Camelot is the last village a druid boy could be considered safe in." Only Amena had ever dared to enter into the center of Camelot, and that had only been in dire need of Merlin's healing prowess.

"The guards are searching everyone leaving the town, though," Gwen pointed out, looking off into the distance where the gates at the edge of the Lower Town were located, the ones that one needed to pass through in order to get into Camelot.

Fortunately, it wasn't the only way in or out.

"There's more than one way out of the castle." Merlin stepped back into the room, brushing her fringe out of her eyes.

"How do you know?" Morgana asked in surprise, watching how Merlin's cheeks turned pink.

"Well, um, I might have done a lot of snooping around when I first got here," Merlin admitted a bit sheepishly as she played with the end of her long plait as a way to keep her from looking at Gwen or Morgana.

"You _rebel,"_ Gwen laughed, only to abruptly quiet when the boy stirred faintly in his sleep.

"Which is the best one to take?" Morgana pressed.

Merlin scratched her cheek, considering the options with a frown. "I'd say the secret door in the armory, it should lead out past where the soldiers are patrolling. I can take the boy through."

"No." Morgana shook her head so fiercely that her dark curls swung around her face in agitation. "It's too dangerous. I'll do it."

Merlin looked at her. She knew that Morgana was already a bit attached to the boy, even only being in her care for a day, but it gave her an uneasy feeling. "I don't think that's a good idea," Merlin said. "You don't know the secret passages like me."

"But if you're caught, Uther will execute you," Morgana pointed out and Merlin chewed on her lip but she didn't bother to deny it; it was a fear she lived with every day. "The boy is my responsibility. I'll smuggle him out of the castle."

"Either way, you'll still need the door's key," Merlin sighed.

"A secret passage with a key?" Gwen arched an eyebrow dubiously.

"Well, it's certainly the fastest," Merlin remarked dryly, crossing her arms for good measure. "The other ones take a bit more effort."

Morgana coughed to direct both of their attention back to her. "Who has the key?"

"Arthur," Merlin said.

"Can you get it from him?" Morgana's eyes were probing.

And that made Merlin scoff. "Can I get it from Arthur? Are you _joking?_ Of _course_ I can get it from Arthur. Just give me a few hours."

Morgana had to wonder about Merlin as she watched the girl disappear beyond the door in search of the prince, it was like Merlin _liked_ putting herself in situations that put her at odds against Arthur.

* * *

Merlin had had a plan, she really did, until Arthur had found her making her way back to Gaius' chambers, ironically to find some solution to drug said prince with when he snagged her as she came around the corner.

"Oh, no you don't!" he said and Merlin yelped as he yanked her along. "Come on, we're going to train."

"Wait, _what?"_ Merlin demanded, stumbling as she tried to walk with him, her sword sheath colliding against her leg. "I thought you were looking for the druid boy?"

"I am," Arthur said shortly, "but unfortunately all my leads have dried up."

Merlin allowed herself a private smirk at that.

"I need to train to release my anger," he continued and Merlin looked at him as though she'd never properly done so.

"And you think swinging a sword at _me_ is going to make _you_ feel better?" she demanded. The last time that had happened, Merlin had ended up almost losing her head and drawn him cold bath water and brought cold food for the two days after it; being a privileged person, Arthur had learned from that and hadn't tried something like it again. Of course, that didn't mean that Merlin hadn't been training with Arthur after, just never when he was annoyed or angry.

"A bit, yeah," Arthur said, flashing her a grin that made Merlin groan loudly. "Come on, you're getting out of shape."

"That's likely." Merlin wrinkled her nose as they made their way down the steps. "With all the chores I do for you and Gaius it'd be a _wonder_ if I was ever out of shape."

They reached the training field in a matter of moments, arriving at it sooner rather than later and Merlin drew the sword that had originally forged with such limited resources by Percival and then re-forged by Tom, Gwen's father.

She barely had time to block the strike of Arthur's own blade against hers. If there was one thing that being Arthur's maidservant had taught her, it was to be quick on her feet.

Merlin gritted her teeth together and pushed back against his sword, moving with him when he stepped to the left in an effort to unbalance her.

Maybe she could give him a slice that was just deep enough that it needed bandaging…then drugging him wouldn't be quite so difficult.

Of course, retrospectively, it sounded a bit bad, the efforts she was going through in order to drug a prince, but if it ensured the boy's survival, she'd take it.

Arthur wouldn't be pleased.

* * *

"Ow, _ow!_ Do you even know what you're doing?"

Merlin gave him a frosty glare at that. "Of course I know what I'm doing," she said coolly, "I've been doing this since I was small." Probably much younger than when Arthur had finally been allowed to pick up a sword, but Merlin didn't say that.

All things considering, Merlin thought the training session had gone rather well. Of course, she now had a few cuts and bruises than she'd had before, but Arthur had a long cut along the arm that was in need of tending, which, Merlin thought, was rather the point.

It was much easier to drug Arthur when she needed to examine him to start with.

Merlin pulled her medicine bag towards herself, rather like Gaius' Arthur noticed, various bottles and herbs and a few pieces of folded parchment bearing her name. Arthur reached out his free arm to play with the edge of the parchment while Merlin patted his cut with a mixture of Valerian and Poppies.

"Don't touch that," she said without even looking up from her task.

To his credit, Arthur hardly winced at the sting that the solution caused. "Why not?"

"Because it's not yours," Merlin said, arching an eyebrow at him and seeing how the magic-brewed sedative was taking effect rather quickly. It didn't last very long, but that was the point, making sure he didn't notice.

"Who's it from?" he asked her just a bit sluggishly.

"None of your business," Merlin said before he leaned back and slumped against the chair, leaving Merlin to shake her head in exasperation.

"You know," she told the prince's slumbering form, "the number of things you don't know about me, Arthur, could fill a library."

Arthur gave no reply, but Merlin hadn't honestly been expecting one in the first place as she moved her hands to the keys at his belt, thumbing through them until she found the right one and removed it from the ring to tuck it into a corner in her medicine bag before Arthur stirred.

"What happened?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, blinking his eyes a few times.

"You might have dozed off a little bit," Merlin hummed, pulling a bandage around the slice and tying it just tightly enough that it wouldn't come undone with ease. "All right, you'll live. It _probably_ won't scar, if it does I'll be _really_ impressed—" She ignored how Arthur glowered at that. "Leave that on tonight, I'll check on it tomorrow."

Arthur grunted, which was the equivalent of a thank you, Merlin thought as she packed up her medical things while Arthur was still shaking his head out from the aftereffects of the mild sedative she had given him, entirely unaware that one of his keys was tucked away into Merlin's bag.

Merlin couldn't help but give a sigh when no one followed her as she made her way back to Morgana's chambers, giving a light knock before she was permitted in upon the realization that it was her.

When Merlin stepped inside she saw that the boy was awake and dressed in new clothes with his cloak tied around him, looking in remarkably better spirits than that morning. Morgana, in contrast, was a bundle of tension and wearing a dress that was clearly borrowed from Gwen as it was a little short close to the ankle and a bit loose on her and a cloak from Gwen as well made of crimson material.

"That's a good idea," Merlin realized, taking in the changes Morgana had made, "the guards might notice you more if you were wearing higher class material…well, it might be dark enough that they don't notice." The guards weren't exactly the sharpest tools in the shed, which was probably a good thing, now that she thought about it. "Ready?"

Morgana nodded her head a bit nervously. "Did you get the keys?"

"Just the one you need," Merlin said, placing her bag on the table, unlatching it and pulling out from the crevice between several jars the key, handing it over to Morgana, who took it gratefully. "There's a door behind the red and gold shield on the wall at the far end of the armory, you can't miss it."

Then Merlin moved to kneel before the boy, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. "You stick close to Morgana, all right? I know you might feel a little bit better since this morning, but it's still dangerous out there and Morgana knows Camelot better so you follow her lead, all right?"

The boy nodded and Merlin smiled. "Good lad."

Now if only the plan would work perfectly.

* * *

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Gwen murmured to Merlin while they sat impatiently in Gwen's cottage.

"Well, we _are_ going against the king," Merlin said dryly.

"You've never had a problem with that," Gwen pointed out, arching her eyebrows when Merlin's eyes turned to cold sapphire.

"That's easy for me," Merlin said, playing with the binding around the end of her plait. "I hate the king, to me he's a tyrant with no redeemable qualities."

Merlin had seen the carnage his war on magic had caused. It was really no wonder that only sorcerers seeking vengeance came to Camelot; he was the one that had caused all the misery to start with.

Gwen, though, appearance rather startled at that admission, but before she could say anything there was the distant sound of the warning bell.

A grimace formed on Merlin's lips. Someone must have seen Morgana with the boy and warned the guards. There went the secrecy that they were trying to maintain.

Merlin opened the door to allow Morgana and the boy within as Gwen quickly thrust a packed bag towards Morgana who was half breathless already.

"There's enough food for three days in there," she said.

"And your horse is waiting in the stables," Merlin added, making for the door once more but Morgana stalled her with a look. "No, there's no point in all of us risking our lives."

"You are," Merlin pointed out grimly.

"I'm the king's ward," Morgana said firmly, "I'll take my chances."

Exasperated and anxious didn't even begin to cover how Merlin felt about the whole thing, but she didn't stop Morgana as she dragged the boy out after her, shutting the door, and it was almost as if she'd never been there in the first place.

* * *

Merlin had heard the yells from the throne room the morning after the boy and Morgana had been caught by Arthur and it still made her wince.

Gaius had been able to surmise what she'd been up to for the past few days once he'd learned that Morgana had been implicated in the attempt to smuggle the druid boy out of Camelot, and he wasn't very pleased with her. But that had more to do with him worrying that she was going to get her killed through reckless behavior, which Merlin thought was a bit rich coming from him.

Of course, Merlin was still a bit frosty with Gaius and was making an effort to ignore any of the advice he gave her. But it was a curious note that both Gaius and Kilgharrah seemed rather against her helping the boy. In Kilgharrah's case, his reasoning, whatever it was, was a bit more personal, it was like he knew something awful about the boy.

But Merlin couldn't believe that a child warranted such a response. He'd done nothing wrong, at least, not yet. And even a child didn't deserve to be executed for nothing other than being a Druid.

And she could never understand how someone like Uther could see only death and destruction where there was also life and creation.

Merlin swept the fringe out of her eyes as she moved through the silent halls, coming to a stop outside Arthur's chambers to collect his dishes after the evening meal, which he'd taken in his chambers, for some odd reason, pausing with her hand on the door at the sound of voices within.

"I can't believe you'd let an innocent child _die!"_ Morgana's voice was furious and aghast.

"It's too late," Arthur was much calmer though just as much unsettled. "He's been caught. I have no choice."

"And is _this_ how you will rule when you are king?" Morgana demanded. "You're _not_ like your father."

Merlin decided it was probably best to make a circuit around the castle and come back to the chambers, because it sounded a bit personal to her.

When she ended up back at Arthur's door, there was hardly any noise coming from beyond it, so Merlin breathed out sharply and pushed open the door.

Morgana was within and so was Arthur, picking at the table with his knife and Merlin couldn't help but wrinkle her nose; she was the one that had to clean and repair everything!

"What're you doing here?" Arthur asked blandly like he was rather exhausted with everything.

"Collecting the dishes to be washed," Merlin said simply, pointing to the used cutlery and dishes at the end of the table, glancing towards Morgana as she did so.

"It's all right," Morgana said, "I trust Merlin."

"You're planning another escape attempt." Merlin didn't even have to guess.

"Of course _you_ were involved," Arthur complained.

"That's me," Merlin said, shutting the door swiftly behind her, "sticking my nose where it shouldn't be."

It was a rather unfortunate truth.

Morgana smiled.

"But Morgana can't be involved," Merlin felt the need to point out.

" _What?"_ Morgana demanded.

"You've helped him once before, you'd be the first to be suspected of helping him a second time," Merlin pointed out and Morgana positively deflated.

"For once, Merlin's right," Arthur said and Merlin shot him a glower, which he ignored in favor of turning towards his father's ward. "You must go to my father and apologize. Dine with him. He cannot hold you responsible if you're with him when the boy escapes."

"You need me if the plan's to work!" Morgana pressed.

"I can get him out on my own," Merlin mentioned.

"You're not doing it _alone!"_ Arthur snapped, wheeling around on his heel to pin Merlin with a glare.

"Oh, _yeah?"_ Merlin challenged him. "Who's going to stop me?"

Arthur pressed a hand to his face, gritting his teeth and Morgana found herself fascinated. She'd always known that Merlin and Arthur had a bit of a strange relationship, but listening to them bicker regardless of their differing stations was always interesting.

"Why are you _always_ like this?" he muttered to himself.

"Someone's got to keep you on your toes," Merlin retorted shortly before the three of them were interrupted by a loud _caw!_ and turned in time to see a raven fly through Arthur's open window to perch on Merlin's extended arm.

Of the three, she was the least surprised of its sudden appearance.

"What the hell is that?" Arthur demanded.

"Are you daft? It's a raven," Merlin said dryly, rolling her eyes with enough emphasis that Morgana –despite the tension in the air– had to stifle a few giggles. "Kenelm, say hello."

The raven gave another sharp _caw!_ before extending his leg to her, bringing their focus to the parchment wrapped there.

"You use a bird as a courier?" Morgana asked in surprise.

"Kenelm is far more trustworthy than a courier," Merlin remarked, untying the parchment and making the raven preen all at once. "Kenelm, you can wait in my room for a bit, I've got another job for you."

And then the raven had gone with a flutter of its wings and Arthur didn't have any time to puzzle over just how it had understood a word she'd said, because Merlin had read the contents of the parchment in a single moment.

"Iseldir is waiting in the woods, he'll take the boy once we manage to get him out," she said.

"Iseldir?" The name tumbled out of his mouth oddly, not with the same practiced ease as Merlin.

"He's a Druid Chieftain."

"How do you know a Druid Chieftain?" Arthur demanded.

"A girl's entitled to her secrets," Merlin said, her eyes glittering with amusement at how he gaped at her. "So, which secret passage will we be using since you're so determined to come along?"

Splotches of red appeared high on Arthur's cheekbones. He almost asked how she knew there were more when he didn't even know there were more, but he restrained himself.

"I'll get the boy and take him through the burial vaults," he said after taking a long moment to contemplate just why he kept Merlin on as his maidservant. "It leads out beyond the city walls."

"I'm aware," Merlin said without blinking, "I'll handle the grate that covers it. Don't worry about a horse, though, we won't be going far."

And Morgana left to 'apologize' to the king and leave the pair to finalize their plans.

* * *

When it was all said and done, Arthur couldn't help but have more questions about Merlin than when he'd started with.

She met them at the grate with a stony expression on her face, yanking the grate off with ease, leading Arthur to believe that she'd had removed it before, though why Merlin, of all people, would need to sneak out of Camelot, Arthur wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Merlin gave the boy a smile, keeping his hand locked in hers as she jabbered away in a language that Arthur couldn't even begin to understand and the boy responded every so often in the same tongue.

They walked for nearly an hour until Arthur caught sight of an older man holding a torch aloft in the middle of the forest, and it was only then that Merlin abandoned the boy to rush through the leaves and grasp the man in a tight hug.

There weren't many that Merlin would do that to, so Arthur couldn't really mask his surprise. The sun hadn't yet risen, so it was only when Arthur and the boy came much closer that he was able to make out the man holding the torch, but there was nothing particularly remarkable about him; loose grey curls, kind eyes around the edges of which were crow's feet.

He was speaking quietly with Merlin, the pair of them rather solemn.

"I'll do my best," Merlin promised.

The man gave her a soft smile. "I know you will," he agreed before turning to speak to Arthur as the boy moved forward to stand on his other side. "We are forever indebted to you, Arthur Pendragon, for returning the boy to us."

"You must not let it be known that it was I who brought him to you," Arthur said and the man, Iseldir, Merlin had called him, glanced towards Merlin.

"We will tell no one," he said, "you have my word. Lady Merlin's kindness to our kind is well known, we will only betray her involvement."

Arthur was sure Merlin was blushing now.

"Do you want to give us your name, darling, before you leave?" Merlin asked, faintly amused and the boy jerked back to look at them both.

"My name is Mordred," the boy said.

"Good luck, Mordred," Arthur responded and Mordred smiled before following Iseldir into the darkness, and then he rounded on Merlin. "Lady Merlin?"

"Oh, shut up," Merlin snapped, and he could practically feel her embarrassment, yet how she and Iseldir had acted together was oddly familial.

"Was that man your father?" he asked her on the trek back.

"I have no father," Merlin said coolly, "Iseldir is my godfather and the greatest healer I know."

"What did he ask you to do?"

Merlin puffed an inhale of air out through her mouth. "Druids have very specific rites for death. He was asking for Cerdan's body."

"The Druid that was executed?" Arthur guessed and Merlin's lips thinned.

"Yes," she said stiffly, "him."

He considered her in the darkness, only really half-seeing her. "I'm never going to figure you out, am I?"

Merlin's laugh pierced the air before she could silence it. "Not a chance."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merlin has a very different relationship with Mordred than in canon, but as of now his bond with Morgana is more profound.
> 
> I have a personal headcanon that the Druids have a language that is what the first spells were derived from and Merlin's spent so much time around Druids that she's fluent.
> 
> Its Shini's birthday on the 26th, so I'm trying to update a lot of fics that I haven't been focused on before then, but I'm not sure when this one will be updated again.


	22. Tristan du Bois

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, we're seriously close to hitting 100 reviews! Wow, that's amazing! Some really good Mercival scenes are still a bit of a ways off, but Percival will be referenced more than a few times to keep your interests up, at least until he shows up.
> 
> Caedmon is actually an unnamed druid boy in the show, but I gave him a bit more importance in the grand scheme of the fic, to the person that was curious.

Compared to their village, Camelot was very _large._

Byron and Edgar couldn't help but wonder why Percival's lover –Percival had tried to point out that technically speaking, they weren't even that (yet), but they opted to ignore him– would want to live in a town so steeped in regulation and order.

From what Percival had described, this unknown Merlin was a bit of a free spirit, so Camelot didn't seem like the kind of place someone like her would want to live.

In all honesty, Percival would probably rather have gone himself, but Edgar and Byron were the messenger boys, and Percival and their father were the workers.

It wasn't often that they had out of village requests, particularly since their forge in Mercia was rather small, and this request in particular had come from the mysterious Merlin herself.

The twins doubted that she even knew what Percival had made of her, but he had put an awful lot of effort into it, so she had to have been something special.

There was a thick throng of people in the streets, lingering around market stalls eyeing the produce and products there, but the twins continued through the people until they came out in the courtyard, looking around uneasily, but it wasn't as though there was a sign to indicate the location of court physician.

"Can I help you?" a voice mentioned and both boys looked up to the curly haired knight, considering them both cautiously.

"Um, we're looking for someone named _Merlin?"_ Byron said, forming the name oddly, the phrase coming out as a question.

"The apprentice of the court physician, I assume," the knight said, now looking faintly amused, "it's not a very common name."

"Yeah, her," Edgar said when the knight's eyes darted over their heads to someone beyond them.

"Merlin, what happened?"

Both boys twisted their heads around so violently a crack was nearly audible.

The young woman stalking into the courtyard looked just as Percival had described, long dark hair bound in a tight plait and dark blue eyes. The masculine clothing was a surprise, though, and the sword at her hip, which looked nothing like Percival's work, and they knew that he'd crafted a sword for her, albeit with rather limited materials.

And there was bruise blooming on her cheek, mottled red and purple against her fair skin.

"It's nothing," the woman said giving a careless wave, "one of Gaius' clients got a bit fresh with me; trust me, his arm's going to hurt _far_ longer."

Her eyes swept over the two boys standing beside the knight with interest.

"Byron," she presumed, pointing to the twin on the left before moving to the next, "and Edgar, right?"

"Friends of yours?" the knight inquired.

"Their brother is," Merlin laughed, "you'll have to ignore Sir Leon, he's not _generally_ very helpful."

" _Oi!"_ Sir Leon complained.

"I'm Merlin," she added, ignoring the outraged knight who decided it was a good moment to leave. "Percival said you were coming to Camelot."

"You're Merlin?" Byron asked her dubiously, looking her from head to foot as if trying to muddle something out in his head.

"Yes," Merlin said dryly, arching an eyebrow at his response.

"You're _way_ too pretty for Percival," Edgar decided and she actually laughed.

"Well, as flattering as that is," she smirked, "I told your brother he didn't need to send anything…but he often does the opposite of what I say."

"Really?" Byron asked in surprise. Percival wasn't really the rebellious type.

"It's usually to aggravate me," Merlin said, bobbing her head slightly, making her long plait swish with the movement. "Or else he would've been out of my care much sooner."

Edgar's brow furrowed. "I thought it was because he was seriously wounded." He'd seen his older brother's scar and Percival had made no bones about the seriousness of his injuries.

"Oh, he was," Merlin said grimly, fixing the strap of her medicine bag on her shoulder correctly. "But your brother has a problem with staying _still."_ She sounded rather like she still found that particular skill to be rather irksome.

Both twins scratched their cheeks, looking a bit sheepish. "It's probably a family trait," Byron admitted.

"It usually is," Merlin snorted before stiffening at the yell of: _"Merlin!"_

Edgar and Byron looked around in surprise as a surprisingly annoyed blond stormed into the stone courtyard, shaking a sword in Merlin's direction.

"As usual, your skill in knowing when to be civil proves to be nonexistent, Arthur Pendragon," she remarked rather coolly. "Can't you see I'm trying to have an honest conversation here?"

"Where're my clothes?" he demanded of her and Merlin glowered before turning back to the pair.

"Excuse me, but I need to sort out a tantrum before the prince explodes in on himself," she said, ignoring Arthur's squawk of outrage.

Edgar and Byron looked over the young man in surprise, because if that was the very same Prince Arthur whom Percival had said that Merlin worked as the maidservant to, but they couldn't help but think that he didn't seem very princely.

"You work for me!"

"I also happen to be the apprentice to the Court Physician," Merlin snapped to him, her eyes gleaming darkly, "an achievement that I do not take _lightly."_

The twins gathered that it was difficult to be taken seriously as a woman in a profession usually regarded as a man's, especially in Camelot.

Arthur's jaw tightened and a part of him had to appreciate that skill-set that his maidservant possessed.

"We should, er, probably get going," Edgar admitted, but he still pulled out a small wooden box from his bag and held it out to her. "This is for you."

"How is Percival?" she asked, smiling lightly as she took it from him, weighing its contents in her hand.

"He wanted to give it to you in person," Byron blurted, "but…"

Merlin turned a flattered pink. "Tell him I say hi and I'll try and see if I can come visit in a few months."

"It was nice to meet you," Edgar added before both boys rushed off into the crowd, probably not wanting to displease the crown prince by taking up too much of his maidservant's time.

Merlin opened the box to smile at what Percival had made her before making her way back to Arthur.

"So, what is it?" Arthur asked.

"That would be telling." Merlin tucked away the box with a rather noticeable smile on her lips and skip in her walk. Arthur suspected this was something about Merlin that he would never understand.

"Your clothes are in your room, Arthur," she added, rolling her eyes, "where they're _supposed_ to be before the crowning ceremony…which is hours away, _remember?"_

Arthur's sulky expression only worsened with her laughter.

* * *

"Merlin is _way_ too pretty for Percival," Edgar repeated when they were out of earshot.

"You can say that again," Byron snorted.

They didn't know how someone as pretty as Merlin could be so interested in someone like their brother, but they were probably always going to think that.

It was a pity, though, that Percival couldn't have given Merlin her gift in person, both would've probably liked that better.

"Race you back to the market," Edgar said, grinning suddenly and both raced off into the crowd.

* * *

The last time Merlin had been in the Hall of Ceremonies when it had been so decorated had been when the Kingdom of Mercia had been visiting and Merlin had ended up poisoned for her trouble. Needless to say, Merlin was still feeling cautious about festivities in the Hall of Ceremonies.

Merlin was standing off to the side with Gwen, both in the back as servants, respectively holding wine and a bowl of grapes, but still being able to see very well as Arthur knelt before Uther who held a scepter.

"Do you solemnly swear to govern the people of this kingdom and its dominions according to the statutes, customs, and laws laid down by your forebears?"

"I do, Sire," Arthur intoned without breaking eye contact with his father.

"Do you promise to exercise mercy and justice in your deeds and judgments?" Uther continued and honestly Merlin couldn't help but think about how hypocritical it was for him to ask such a thing of his only son when he didn't exercise them himself.

Her jaw tightened in aggravation.

"I do, Sire."

Uther moved the scepter so that it was horizontal in front of Arthur. "And do you swear allegiance to Camelot, now and for as long as you shall live?"

Arthur raised a hand to grip the scepter. "I, Arthur Pendragon," he said, sounding far more serious than Merlin had ever heard him previously, "do pledge life and limb to your service and to the protection of the kingdom and its peoples."

Merlin thought she might've seen a flicker of pride in Uther's face, but it was so difficult to tell as he moved to lift the prince's crown from the velvet pillow to place on Arthur's head.

"Now, being of age and heir apparent, from henceforth, you shall be Crown Prince of Camelot."

And with that said, applause erupted around them, and Merlin couldn't help but think that the whole thing was rather pointless; Arthur had always been the crown prince, all they were doing was making it legally binding, something that Merlin _still_ thought was pointless.

"So how does it feel to be servant to the Crown Prince of Camelot?" Gwen was grinning beside her and Merlin rolled her eyes for good measure.

"No different than it did yesterday," she said with absolute certainty, more irritated with the fact that she'd been forced into a crimson dress for the occasion. It was ill-fitting and Merlin would much rather be in trousers and a tunic, and she had said as much before she was forced into it prior to the ceremony.

"You can't say that you're not proud of him," Gwen replied with a smile that lit her eyes. "I can see it on your face."

"Well, he is less of a prat than when we first met, so I suppose that's an improvement," Merlin wheedled and Gwen stifled her laugh.

In the next second, though, both found them as startled as the rest of the occupants of the hall by a large black horse with a knight in dark armor astride it burst through one of the stained glass windows, shattering fragments of glass down on the lords and ladies, making them scream and cover their heads.

When the hose and knight landed on the stone before the king and prince, the knights had already drawn their blades.

"What in the devil's name?" Merlin could barely hear Uther breath as the horse moved forward slowly before coming to a stop directly in front of Arthur. Merlin's eyes roved over the white phoenix crest across his black shield, but she didn't think she'd ever seen it before.

Then the knight ripped off his gauntlet and through it to the ground; an issued challenge of a duel.

Merlin took in a sharp breath as Arthur sheathed his sword, and bent to reach down to accept the gauntlet, but someone else got there first.

The knight was young with bright eyes and an easy smile. Merlin had seen him time to time when she went to visit Leon, or if she was replacing Arthur's armor in the armory.

"I, Sir Owain," the knight said, "accept your challenge."

It was obvious that the unknown black knight had been intending Arthur to accept the challenge, given how focused and intent he had been on Arthur, but he still turned his head slightly toward the younger knight.

"Single combat," he spoke for the first time, "noon tomorrow, till the death."

And with that proclamation, the horse was turned around and the knight made his way out of the oaken double doors.

Merlin's eyes flitted towards the young knight and she couldn't help but think that Owain didn't look nearly as up to the task.

That boded ill.

* * *

Merlin knew there was something off about the whole thing, because the crest the black knight had been wearing was as clear as day and yet Gaius claimed not to have seen it very clearly. She knew there was something Gaius wasn't telling her, but she and Gaius still weren't getting along as well they had been before, so she didn't ask or pry.

The black knight had stood in the stone courtyard all night, not even moving an inch, which Merlin thought was a marvel, because she at least would've had to run off into the woods for a tinkle.

She allowed herself to pause and stare at him, her arms holding Sir Owain's things, since she and Arthur were going to prepare him for the fight, her physically and him mentally.

Merlin wasn't expecting anything to come from staring at the black knight, but he suddenly turned his head, as if sensing her and Merlin forced herself to start walking again, this time acutely aware that she was being watched.

She didn't mention the incident when she arrived, setting Owain's things on the table and sliding the vambraces up over his forearms first after the chainmail was on, and then moving on to tying the cloak at his throat.

"You've never fought in mortal combat before," Arthur explained and Merlin glanced his way, certain that she was seeing a worried expression on his face. She wondered if he believed that Owain could defeat the unknown knight. "It's different. It's not like the training I've been giving you."

"Yeah, I know," Owain said, self-assured as Merlin finished the tie, only to blink in surprise when Arthur whipped him around to face him seriously.

" _Listen_ to me," he insisted. "The problem is, we've never seen him fight. You have to quickly get the measure of him."

"But I have the same advantage," Owain pointed out, "he's never seen me fight."

Arthur appeared to struggle with himself briefly. "True."

"You've watched me."

"Yes."

"And?" Owain asked.

Arthur nearly sighed, resting a hand on Owain's shoulder. "And I know no one braver."

Merlin held out the knight's sword for him to take, and he did, giving her a small smile as he did so.

"Remember," Arthur added, "all it takes to kill a man is one well-aimed blow."

There was a polite knock at the door and Gwen entered, giving Owain a respectful curtsy. She was holding a red ribbon in her hand.

"The Lady Morgana asked me to give you this token," she said simply, and Merlin knew her well enough that she didn't like the odds of the challenge. "She wishes you to wear it for luck."

"You can thank her," Owain responded, taking the ribbon from her hand, "and tell her I shall wear it with pride. But I won't need luck."

Gwen nodded, her lips thinned into a line, eyes flitting briefly over to Merlin before she left. Arthur jerked his head towards Merlin, indicating that she should follow him out, when Owain spoke to her.

"What about you?" he asked.

Merlin started in surprise. "What about me?" she asked.

He arched an eyebrow. "No wish of luck?"

That made her arch an eyebrow, her lips twitching slightly. "I thought you didn't need luck, Sir Owain."

"Well, you'll be the one patching me up afterwards," he said.

Merlin could admire his certainty, so all she said was "Good luck."

But she didn't believe him; something about the black knight put her ill at ease.

* * *

The fight was stunning, mostly because Merlin had seen Owain stab the black knight with a fatal blow and he'd just walked it off after effectively ending the Camelot's knight. Merlin turned away when the sword was brought down.

"He should be dead," Merlin said to Gaius from where the stood side by side.

"Owain didn't land a blow," Gaius pointed out.

"He did," Merlin said, glancing over to where Owain's sword lay, unstained with blood, something that she didn't think was possible, seeing as it run through the black knight's flesh under his armor. "It was a fatal hit. He shouldn't even be walking."

"Are you sure?" Gaius asked, turning to look at his niece and ward. Merlin's face was serious.

" _Very,"_ she said. "He should be dead by now."

"Perhaps he already is," Gaius said and Merlin blinked.

"What?" she said blankly. She was familiar with the magic that it took to revive the dead, Necromancy was powerful and very dangerous and never went in the way you wanted it to. Iseldir had warned her against it so many times, and Merlin had seen someone try their hand at it once in the druid village; it had made her violently ill.

"Come with me," Gaius said as they left the arena after Sir Pellinor took the next challenge, despite how he was still suffering from his injuries at Othenden. Merlin knew he was, she'd only changed his bandages that morning.

Merlin followed him back to the castle with hardly a backwards glance, her brow furrowing as they went deep into the lowest parts of the castle, past the dungeons and the path that led down to where Kilgharrah was bound.

"Are we allowed to go into the burial vaults?" Merlin asked out loud in the lowest whisper she could manage, but her voice still echoed loudly in the silence.

"You're not scared are you?" Gaius sounded like he was smiling, but Merlin didn't dare look to over to him.

"Because it's exactly like I haven't seen dead bodies before," she replied dryly. She had seen a great deal of them during her time as a healer in Ealdor and in Camelot.

A door slammed in the direction they'd just come in and Merlin jumped, but, Gaius, as calm as ever, simply said: "Must've been a gust of wind."

It was almost too dark to see the steps in front of them, so Merlin grabbed one of the unlit torches on the side of the wall, removing it, one hand hovering before it as she said: _**"Leohtbora."**_

Her eyes gleamed golden and fire burst forth, blazing bright in the darkness.

"Hm, you're getting better at that," Gaius said grudgingly.

Merlin shrugged, but she offered nothing to that. If she wasn't living in Camelot, maybe she'd be further along in her studies, but she didn't voice that opinion, leading them down into the darkness before Gaius found the right burial vault.

Never before had Merlin seen tombs like the one she saw in the vault, they were all made of stone, in the likeness of whoever they had appeared to be in life, with hands pressed together as though praying. The only funerals Merlin had witnessed were those that had been pyres, with the ashes scattered once there was nothing left to burn.

"What exactly are we doing down here?" Merlin inquired.

But all Gaius did was gesture her to bring her torch over to where he was standing, and Merlin complied. The grave they were peering over had been broken into, or, more accurately, been broken out of, with no body within.

"Who is Tristan du Bois?" Merlin asked curiously, reading the name out clearly before looking up to see the shadows lining Gaius' face, making him look so very much older than he was.

* * *

Gaius didn't explain why the name had such an effect on him until they were within the physician's chamber, and Merlin thought that was for the benefit of them both as opposed to just her. The walls of Camelot had ears, something he was undoubtedly aware of.

"Tristan du Bois was the brother of Ygraine, Uther's wife," he said at long last and Merlin's eyebrows arched.

She hadn't been aware that Arthur's mother had had a brother. Arthur certainly never talked about his mother hardly at all or her family. Maybe there was a reason for that.

"Ygraine died in childbirth," Gaius continued and Merlin winced.

She'd helped with many births over the years, since she was old enough to be of sufficient help in the birthing process. Many mothers in the druid community had lived to see their children grow before their eyes despite suffering complications during childbirth because of Merlin's skill in the healing arts (both magical and none magical).

"He blamed Uther."

"Well, he was the one that got her pregnant," Merlin pointed out, only to stall at the look on Gaius' face, something that told her that that wasn't the whole story. Merlin opened her mouth to inquire further, but Gaius continued before she could.

"He blamed Uther and came to the gates of Camelot and challenged him."

"That's a bit drastic," Merlin said with a grimace. Of course, she'd never lost a sister before, so maybe if she'd had one she might've thought a bit different. "Was it single combat like Owain's duel?"

Gaius nodded. "Uther won," he said, pulling a book loose from a pile close to the window, bringing it to the table to flip through the pages, "but in his dying breath, Tristan cursed Camelot to one day suffer his return. I thought it was the ramblings of a dying man."

"I'm guessing you don't think that's the case now," Merlin said with an arched eyebrow, "besides, Necromancy needs a practitioner, he wouldn't be able to just wake up from death without someone giving him a helping hand."

"The caster remains a mystery," Gaius murmured as his fingers came to a stop on one page in particular, "but it's my guess we're dealing with a wraith."

"A wraith?" Merlin frowned, unfamiliar with the term as she came to stand beside him, reading over the page.

"The spirit of a dead man conjured from the grave," Gaius informed her as her fingers trailed over the words there.

"' _Only_ _powerful magic can harness the grief and rage of a tormented soul and make it live again'_ ," Merlin read out loud, skimming the passage. "It doesn't say anything about how to kill it."

"That's because you can't."

Merlin balked at that. " _What?"_ she said dubiously. "There's always a way to kill things like these." It might've been hard, but it had always been managed.

"You can only kill things that are actually alive," Gaius informed her sagely, "no mortal weapon can kill it."

"That can't _be."_ Merlin frowned, re-reading the passage once again for an indication.

"Nothing can stop it until it has achieved what it came for. Revenge against Camelot, and against Uther."

"And Arthur," Merlin added, tugging at the end of her plait as she flicked it over her shoulder.

Pellinor wouldn't survive tomorrow as Tristan du Bois' opponent, and if Arthur picked up the gauntlet next, she didn't want to think what would happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time since I updated, but nursing school is brutal. Hopefully this chapter will hold you guys over until the next update.


	23. The Dragon-Blade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile, but I'm glad Percival's brothers were enjoyable, they're a bunch of nerds that are going to take the mickey out on Percy for having a pretty girl.
> 
> I'm going to need to alter a few phrases in the first few chapters because I hadn't originally intended on Iseldir having a bigger role in the fic that he now does, but it's not going to change all that much.

Merlin winced as the sword went into Sir Pellinor and the knight fell. He'd made a killing blow to the Black Knight, but it hadn't done him much good, and the knight had walked it off as though it was just a scratch.

She saw the king lurch towards Arthur, but it was too late. This time around, it was he that threw down his gauntlet with a challenge.

"I, Arthur Pendragon, challenge you," he said, his words echoing in the silence.

"So be it," the knight said flatly.

"Single combat, noon, tomorrow."

The knight gave no reply to that, bringing his sword up to rest against his shoulder as he moved past the crowd to make back for the castle. He passed by Merlin and his head twisted towards her, making Merlin swallow and take a step back.

"What was that about?" Gaius asked her, noticing the attention.

"No idea." Merlin thought it was rather likely that since the wraith that was the knight was conjured of magic, he could probably sense magic like hers close by.

He left her feeling cold and unnatural.

* * *

It couldn't be killed by any mortal blade, the thick tomes of Gaius' had proved that well enough, but Merlin wasn't ready to give up just yet.

There were other kinds of swords in the ancient tales, one that Merlin remembered from an old story that Iseldir had told her as a child, about a knight named Sir Marhaus who had a sword heated in a dragon's fire that was said to slay the living and the dead.

It was just a story, but at this point Merlin was willing to place her faith in a story given all the other challengers had failed and perished before Arthur.

Merlin stopped in front of a door, rapping her knuckles sharply on it until Gwen opened the door in surprise.

"Merlin," she said, eyebrows rising on her brow, "what are you doing here?"

"I need a favor," Merlin blurted out with a wince, "and it might get you into trouble with your father."

That got Gwen's attention and she scrutinized her friend closely. "Why? What is it?"

"I need a sword," Merlin admitted, shaking out her hands nervously, "the strongest sword he's ever made, to save Arthur."

Gwen chewed viciously on her lip, clearly caught between wanting to help Arthur live past tomorrow and not wanting to anger her father, but her good heart won.

"Come inside," she said, practically dragging her friend inside and shutting the door behind her. "He's going to _kill_ me for this."

"You can always say it was for a good cause," Merlin offered in what she hoped was a helpful manner.

"I don't think that's going to win me any points with him," Gwen disagreed before stepping through the house to her father's room, creaking it open. Luckily, he wasn't there, or Merlin and Gwen would've had a bit more trouble with taking the sword. As it was, Merlin counted her lucky stars.

Gwen dug under the bed and pulled out what could've only been a sword tucked inside cloth and she unwrapped it carefully with light fingers on the bed. "My father's been saving this," she told Merlin. "He's always said it was the best sword he's ever made."

Merlin weighed it in her hand, her fingers grasping the hilt. She'd never seen Gwen's father work on any of the swords, but she'd Percival at it once, even with the limited resources that had been in Ealdor he'd been able to make a sturdy blade for her. But Merlin's reforged blade was one of Gwen's father's pieces of work and she appreciated his skill in making swords; he was second to none in Camelot.

"It's _beautiful_ ," she murmured, tracing a hand along its flat surface, staying away from the sharp edges.

"You think it'll help Arthur tomorrow?" Gwen asked, her brow furrowed and eyebrows drawn together in concern.

"I hope," Merlin said, unease flitting across her face as she tucked the cloth back around the sword. "Get some sleep, Gwen, let me worry about Arthur."

" _Sleep?"_ Gwen couldn't help but roll her eyes at that. "What are the chances I'll actually _get_ any sleep after today?"

Merlin spared her a small smile before thanking her and taking off back in the direction of the castle when something hard grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the side of the wall.

She choked briefly, still managing to clutch onto the cloth-hidden sword, her head aching from the impact against stone as the world stopped spinning around her and cleared in order for her to see the Black Knight in front of her.

"You reek of magic," the voice intoned deeply and Merlin tightened her grip on the cloth, " _witch."_

There was so much disdain and disgust in his voice with that single word, but after so many months in Camelot now, she was used to the rather abysmal attitude towards magic. When she'd first arrived, she'd been angry about it, struggling to keep her emotions in line, but not anymore.

"You must be mistaken," Merlin coughed as her voice cracked slightly, "the only thing I reek of is _herbs."_

"You can't fool everyone, witch," the words were seething behind the mask, "once I kill the prince, I'm coming for _you_ next."

"What's the meaning of this?" a strong voice demanded and Merlin caught sight of a flash of red and she almost sighed in relief. It wasn't Leon, but it was one of the younger knights, Sir Osric. "Release the physician's apprentice, _now!"_

The gauntlet was removed from Merlin's throat and she could breathe a bit more freely, and the knight gave her one last menacing stare despite having no eyes that Merlin could see before turning away from her.

"You all right, Merlin?" the knight asked her, approaching with a torch in one hand as Merlin massaged her throat.

"Fine," she managed to say.

"What did he want?" Osric brought the torch closer, eyes focused on the flesh of her neck, but the bruises wouldn't show up yet.

"To tell me he's going for me after Arthur," Merlin grimaced and Osric's jaw tightened. All the knights were on edge now that two of their own were dead. Some of them found Arthur irritating, but far less than he used to be –as Leon had informed Merlin gratefully, as though she'd been the cause of the change. Still, Arthur didn't deserve death like Owain and Pellinor had received.

"Let me escort you back inside," Osric said instead and Merlin blinked.

"That's not really necessary," she tried to say, but he cut her off swiftly.

" _I insist."_ His smile was brittle and Merlin knew she wasn't going to get out of it, so she sighed and relented, taking his armored crook of his elbow and trying not to sulk about it, but still glad to get as far away from the knight as possible.

* * *

Waiting for Gaius to go to sleep was a trial that Merlin hadn't been expecting. Usually he went to bed rather early, seeing as he was getting up there in age, but this time he was still awake late into the night. Merlin tried not to be irritated about it as she kept her door slightly open, sitting on the floor next to it with the sword in her hands, waiting for him to go to bed.

Merlin was slowly losing feeling in her butt.

He was in his dressing gown, so he must have been close to heading to bed, which Merlin mentally lamented, when the main door opened and she found herself staring at Uther.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing the king said as he quietly shut the door behind him and Merlin briefly wondered if he was possessed in any capacity, because Uther was the type to demand respect and never offer apologies even when he was proven wrong. "You knew that one day this business would come back to haunt me."

"Not quite so literally," Gaius said simply and Merlin frowned.

_What did they mean?_

"I should've listened to you," Uther conceded, bowing his head just slightly. "You said that no good would come of using witchcraft at Arthur's birth."

Merlin's eyes blew wide at that. After all this, after the Purge and all the dead sorcerers and druids at the king's hand…he had used magic for his own personal gain. _The absolute hypocrite._

"You wanted an heir," Gaius said with understanding. "You thought it was the only way."

Merlin was incensed. How could he be so _understanding_ towards Uther? Uther who had killed hundreds upon hundreds of their kind and was still doing so. Merlin couldn't understand it.

"Nimueh told me there would be a price to pay."

Well, _of course_ he'd turned to the woman who had tried so hard to kill Merlin with that poisoned chalice. _But why wouldn't he have_ , she thought bitterly. According to Gaius she was the High Priestess of the Old Religion at one point.

"You weren't to know that that price would be Ygraine's life."

Uther didn't speak for a moment, rubbing his fingers together as if he was nervous. "I cannot let Arthur die."

"Then you _must_ stop the fight," Gaius pressed, taking a step forward.

"No, I will take his place," Uther countered and Gaius very nearly gaped at him.

"Do you know what you're _saying?"_ Gaius asked him carefully as if treading over eggshells.

"Ygraine gave up her life for him. So must I," he said resolutely, as though he'd thought long and hard on the decision. Yet, dying for one's son would not negate a lifetime of slaughter.

"Uther—" Gaius' tone intended to reason, but Uther would see none.

"I have no other choice," the king said.

"There _must_ be another way," Gaius countered, wringing his hands together as he stood in front of the king.

"My death will stop the wraith and Arthur will live," Uther said, like the knowledge of that alone to absolve him of his sins. Merlin _very_ much doubted that. "But it means you are the only person left who knows the truth about Arthur's birth. I want you to swear to me that you will keep your oath."

Gaius bowed his head and Merlin had no doubt in what he would say next. "I will take it to my grave."

Those five words seemed to take the most weight off Uther's shoulders as raised a hand to rest on Gaius' own. "You have always been a good friend," he said, "despite my temper." He gave Gaius a flash of a smile that Merlin almost didn't believe had been there in the first place.

"I always thought that would be the death of you," Gaius agreed and the smile he earned was a bit more obvious than the last.

Uther squeezed Gaius' shoulder briefly. "I have one other favor to ask."

Merlin's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

* * *

She waited until they'd both gone, with Gaius changing back into his clothes and carrying a bottle with him that Merlin was almost certain was filled with a sleeping draught, before taking the sword and creeping down the stairs and out of the physician's quarters.

Merlin was becoming quite familiar with all the hidey holes in the castle that finding a way down the caves under the castle without guards to bypass was getting easier and easier.

The last corner was rounded and then Merlin found herself looking upon the Great Dragon.

"Merlin," Kilgharrah said, unsurprised.

"Kilgharrah," Merlin replied in kind. She noticed that the dragon was always a bit more willing to help her when she used the name that he hadn't heard in ages. "I need your help."

"You usually do," Kilgharrah returned, smoke leaving his nostrils like he was snorting in amusement, resituating himself on the rocks beneath him.

"I need a sword that can kill those that are already dead," Merlin said without preamble. "I've heard that a blade forged in dragon's breath can do just that."

Kilgharrah considered her silently for a moment. "You are rather to the point, that's a quality I admire in you, Merlin."

Merlin paused. "You _do?"_ She honestly didn't know how to respond, because it seemed to her that the Great Dragon had just paid her a compliment.

"But," Kilgharrah said, "all things come with a _price_ , even a weapon as grand as one forged in a dragon's breath. The dead do not return without reason. Who has he come for?"

Merlin couldn't lie. "Uther."

"Then let vengeance be taken and the wraith will die," Kilgharrah remarked unconcerned. "You have never been the type to want to save the one who caused the downfall of the Old Religion."

Teeth gritted behind her lips. "I _hate_ Uther," she agreed coldly, "but he's not the one that took up the challenge, Arthur did. And the wraith told me that once he's through with Arthur, he's coming for me next."

"A surprising development." Kilgharrah brought his head closer to her level, giving a loud sniff. "Powerful magical beings can gain a certain smell that tells others like them of their magical might, generally only creatures of the Old Religion can manage it, but I suppose that a conjured wraith could have the same ability."

Merlin supposed that most of the wraith's anger was Tristan du Bois own that not even death could rob him of.

Then Kilgharrah spoke once more. "A weapon forged with my assistance will have great power, but as I said, there are consequences."

"What kind of consequences?" Merlin asked.

"In the wrong hands, this sword—" The sword in question floated out from under the cloth that Merlin had been keeping it hidden under to hang in the air. "This sword could do great evil. It must be wielded by Arthur and him alone. Power can be dangerous, _as you well know."_

Merlin nodded seriously. "And after the duel? What should I do with it, then?"

"I do not believe he is yet ready for the sword," Kilgharrah agreed. "Take the sword far from here and place it where no mortal man can find it."

The Lake of Avalon sprang to mind.

"Yes," Kilgharrah said, reading her mind, "it will be safe there. Heed my words, young warlock, or you will face the consequences yourself."

"I will," Merlin promised. "I _swear."_

And then Kilgharrah released the flame that enveloped the sword, until it hung in the air, a gleaming plate of gold against the metal with markings that on one side said 'take me up' and the other 'cast me away'.

But there was no doubt of its skill and Merlin would see to it that only Arthur wielded it, too worried of how Kilgharrah would respond if she didn't.

* * *

Arthur's room was shut when she reached in and Merlin pulled down on the handle, but it was no use, someone had locked.

"Are you bloody _serious,_ Gaius?" she grumbled under her breath. She could've done it with magic, she supposed, but Merlin was rather wary about using magic around the castle after a few near misses, camouflaging the sword as Arthur's usual one to keep from arousing suspicion was the last one she'd done several minutes ago when she'd been hidden in the catacombs.

She huffed in exasperation, propping the sword against the wall before drawing hands up to her hair and pulling the new pins from her hair.

They were delicate work and Merlin was very impressed with Percival's handiwork, but she suspected it was easier to make things like it with the proper materials and supplies. It took skill to hide lock picks in the form of hair pins.

She inserted the two pins, twisting around a few moments until she heard a click. Merlin smirked to herself, tucking the pins back into her hair and grabbing the sword and entering the room.

It was completely dark within, but Merlin had been finding her way around the dark for ages now that it was second nature. But, it would be a bit more helpful if she did have some light.

Merlin fumbled to find the candle, lighting it by blowing on it, her eyes gleaming gold in the darkness. The flame gleamed brightly and Merlin winced before setting the sword on the table and heading in the direction of the Arthur's bed.

The prince was fast asleep, seemingly.

But Merlin doubted that very much as she sat down on the bed, bringing the candleholder close to his face, opening one eye with two fingers in order to see how dilated the eye was.

"Hey, can you hear me?" Merlin asked loudly, slapping his cheek lightly, only to get no response. "You know, this is just _sad_ , Arthur. You have to know that a nerve tonic tastes different that a sleeping draught, it's not as though it's a very _subtle_ difference, Arthur!"

But the blond remained oblivious to her berating him.

Merlin rolled her eyes. _**"**_ _ **Á**_ _ **w**_ _ **æ**_ _ **cne,"**_ she murmured, her eyes blazing gold and his eyes shot open before yelping at the sight of his maidservant so close to him. "Oh, _calm down_ , I'm not the one that drugged you."

"Drugged –what?" His tongue didn't appear to working properly and Merlin remained unimpressed.

"Listen to me, _hey_ , listen to me or I'm going to hit you again!" Merlin added rather heatedly as Arthur drew up his blankets to his neck, trying to get away from her. "Gaius drugged you on your father's orders."

That got his attention. _"What?"_ he demanded. "Drugged?"

"He intends to take your place against the knight tomorrow," Merlin said and his eyes widened.

"What? But he _can't!"_

"I think you underestimate how much your father loves you," Merlin said shortly, setting the candleholder down on the bedside table. "You would've slept through the duel if I didn't give you the antidote. You're welcome."

Arthur flopped back against the cushions with an audible groan before shooting forward when she made to leave. "Wait, _Merlin!"_

Merlin paused, turning back.

"I need you to do me a favor." He sounded so much like his father had been to Gaius only hours ago.

"What? You want me to drug your father and lock him in his room?" Merlin asked dryly, rolling her eyes only to freeze at the ominous silence. "Oh, you can't be _serious_ , Arthur! I'm not drugging _the king_ , I could be hanged for that!"

"Merlin!" Arthur insisted, stopping her cold. "If my father goes out there, he could die! He's not as young as he used to be."

Merlin grimaced, throwing her head back and glaring at the ceiling. _"Fine,"_ she growled, "but if I end up hanged for this, I'm haunting you until the day you die."

But she couldn't deny she'd gain some pleasure from drugging the king. The hypocrite certainly deserved worse.

* * *

Arthur swung his sword with precision, spreading his feet on the ground, standing opposite the Black Knight. There was the bang of a drum, and the battle began.

The Knight moved first, slamming his sword against Arthur's, slicing at the shield. He was vicious and aggressive. And it seemed that he was forcing Arthur back more than anything else, but Arthur hadn't given up yet.

Merlin bit at the corner of her lip, wincing at every strike of the sword. Luckily now Arthur was gaining some ground, before lunging forward to collide the hilt of the sword against his helmet, and it went flying off.

The face that turned back was mummified and not of this world.

 _Enjoying the fight?_ The words echoed in Merlin's head and she stiffened suddenly, scanning the crowd for that face until she caught sight of a young woman in a cloak with piercing blue eyes. _You're playing a dangerous game, Merlin. It would be a tragedy after saving him for so long for him to die now._

 _We'll see about that_ , Merlin dared, even as the Knight battered down on Arthur's shield, forcing the blade from his hand, only for the wraith's sword to end up stuck fast in the shield, giving Arthur just enough time to stab the wraith through the middle and it stumbled back, the spot glowing with a heat of a fire and a second later it blew up before them all.

Merlin barely heard the cheers, her eyes fixing on Nimueh. She caught a flash of anger that quickly settled into befuddlement.

 _Until next time, Merlin_ , Nimueh spoke in Merlin's mind. _There is more to you that I have yet to learn._

That odd phrase caused Merlin's brow to furrow, but when she looked back, the sorceress had gone and Arthur had ripped off his helmet to raise his sword.

He turned back towards Merlin, giving her the barest incline of his head of recognition and Merlin's lips twisted faintly as she shook her head in fond exasperation.

* * *

"Merlin, wait a moment."

The sword that Kilgharrah had tempered with his flame was hidden under a blanket as she brought Triton out of the stables, surprised to see the king striding towards her, his face set in a frown and Merlin steeled herself.

"Majesty," she said politely, giving the man a short bow, hiding her disdain for him rather well, "how may I help you?"

"My son has had words with me concerning the events of this morning," Uther said, like there was something soul between his teeth. "I was ready to have you in the stocks for your actions, girl."

Merlin's hands tightened over the reins. "That's your choice, Sire."

" _Yet,"_ Uther continued and Merlin focused her attention on him once more, "you have shown him the most extraordinary loyalty, beyond the line of duty."

Merlin shrugged. "Maybe I think he'll be a fine king someday."

"He will," Uther agreed with his eyes glinting in pride. "But I think he confides in you more than most."

"I don't think that's true," Merlin countered quickly, only to have her words stalled at his raised hand.

"It is," Uther said. "He trusts you more than any servant he's had before and I don't quite understand it."

Merlin thought she should defend herself, but she wasn't quite sure what part of herself she should be defending.

"I'm glad for it," he said finally. "Loyalty is something hard won."

"Thank you, Sire," Merlin said, bowing her head again, and with that said, the king left her feeling a bit befuddled.

"I thought for sure you were going to be put in the stocks," Neal, the stable-hand mentioned, whistling a tune as he wiped his hands with a stained cloth.

Merlin rolled her eyes. "I'm sure I only escaped that fate by the skin of my teeth."

"It always helps to have a pretty face," Neal responded agreeably, throwing a wink in her direction and Merlin scoffed loudly before throwing her weight onto one leg and hoisting herself up into the saddle. "Have a nice ride, Merlin."

Merlin gave a small wave before leaning down slightly to whisper: "Let's see how fast you can get us to the Lake of Avalon and back, Triton, and there might be a few good apples and sugar cubes in it for you."

Triton nickered before starting to trot until they reached the outer walls, and then he surged forward, racing over the path and Merlin's laughter was lost to the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know when the next update will be, sorry, but I hope this ties you over until the next one.


	24. A Trodden Path

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile since an update, mostly because I lost my inspiration from a flamer and from nursing school overwhelming me. Hope you guys enjoy the update.

"Oh,  _Mum,"_  Merlin sighed softly.

It had been months since she'd last seen her mother and they'd barely spoken, especially since it had been her mother's idea to send her to Gaius in the first place, but that didn't mean that Merlin loved her any less.

Still, to see her in Camelot with almost the complete side of her face bruised hadn't been how Merlin wanted to see her.

Merlin gently ran her fingers over the mottled skin, eyebrows creased together with worry.

"My daughter," Hunith smiled, "ever the worrier. Don't worry, it's not so bad."

"It's a huge bruise, Mum, it looks  _terrible,"_  Merlin said flatly.

"Well, looks aren't everything," Hunith said vaguely and that only served to make Merlin scowl more, as her mother had always been a rather pretty woman.

" _Mum,"_  Merlin pressed as servants and knights walked past them in the halls, "what happened?"

Hunith's eyes darted, looking over Merlin's shoulder like she was seeing enemies, like was back in Ealdor, being backhanded by Kanen.

"You remember how harsh winters are in Ealdor," she said and Merlin nodded. Some winters they'd been stretched so thin for food that Merlin had simply avoided eating all together. Later, Iseldir told her that the act nearly killed her and it had taken her some time to recover, during which Hunith had asked Iseldir take her with him to help her recover. When she came back to Ealdor there had been a rumor spread that she'd left because she was with child and Merlin had remained frosty with the villagers even years after. "This harvest we've been plagued by some brigand, he called himself Kanen."

"Ah,  _damn,"_  Merlin winced.

"You know him?" Hunith's eyebrows rose high on her forehead.

"You remember when Percival came into my care?" Merlin asked, playing with the end of her long plait and her mother nodded. "Kanen's men were the ones that attacked him."

Hunith didn't point out that they'd been the ones she'd killed; she didn't think that Merlin would appreciate that too much.

"He's going to take our whole harvest and King Cenred won't do anything." Hunith was shaking. "Our children won't make it through this winter…and I didn't want to bother you with all this but I'm  _frightened_  and you were always the strongest of the two of us, maybe I was just hoping for some of your strength."

"Oh, Mum, that isn't  _true,"_  Merlin insisted, winding her arms tightly around her mother. "You're so strong, you can handle  _anything."_

She leaned back and let her mother look into her eyes. Hunith smiled fondly, cupping her daughter's cheek. "I see so much of him in you," she murmured.

Merlin had long since learned not to ask questions about her father and she knew little about him, other than the fact that she had gained the color of her eyes and hair from him (Hunith's eyes were far too light to compare), and that Uther had once crossed into Cenred's kingdom to hunt him down. As the years went on, Merlin understood that to mean that he had been a sorcerer.

"I can ask Arthur if he can get you an audience with Uther," Merlin suggested instead. "Maybe hearing you talk about Ealdor will appeal to his better nature… _if_  he has one."

Hunith gave her a slight smile. "My daughter, ever bitter."

"One of us has to be," Merlin said, though she knew full well of what Uther would say on the matter, and true to her thoughts, within an hour Merlin found herself looking over the battlements, Arthur coming up not very silently at her side, denied by Uther for assistance.

"I'm sorry," he told her and she looked up. Arthur and noticed two things today that he had never expected to: just how old Merlin seemed around the eyes, and just how much she looked like her mother. "If it were up to me, we'd be on our way there now."

"I'd be a fool to accept any kindness from your father," Merlin said smoothly, voice as cool as the shadow of blue that was her eyes. Arthur almost opened his mouth to defend his father but then thought better of it. "But thank you for trying."

"I wish that Camelot was able to help people regardless of how far away they lived."

Merlin said nothing for a moment. "It might one day," she said finally, "when you are king."

Arthur snorted. "You have that much faith in me?"

"More than I used to," she gave him a brief grin and Arthur noticed it lit up her whole face. "I still remember how pompous you were months ago."

"What about  _you?"_  Arthur couldn't help but sputter. "Countering me at every turn?"

"Like that's changed." Merlin rolled her eyes but then her expression grew somber. "I told my mother I'd take her home to Ealdor but I'm not sure how the villagers will feel, especially since I'm the reason they were singled out in the first place."

"You've lived in Camelot for months now," Arthur pointed out, a bit bemused.

Merlin shook her head. "No, before, when I was sixteen."

She started walking and he followed, rather intrigued. "I'd lost track of time looking for some nettles or I would've been home sooner and I found a young man who had been outnumbered and wounded by Kanen and his men. When I dragged him back to my house, Kanen was the only one still breathing."

Arthur fixated on the solemn seriousness that had overtaken her. "I thought you didn't like killing?" He still remembered how angry she'd been after he thanked her for killing the druid sorcerer that tried to take over Camelot while his father had been away.

"I don't," Merlin said grimly, "look at what's happened! I couldn't save Girec's father so he takes it out on Camelot, I killed men to save a wounded man and Kanen takes it out on Ealdor…there is an unchanging variable there, Arthur."

Arthur glared at her. "Everyone makes mistakes, Merlin, you're not perfect, not by a long shot." Her eyes widened, startled by his honesty. "And it's a good thing I'm around to beat that attitude out of you."

Merlin arched an eyebrow, shaking her head fondly. "I told you I could take you down in less than one hit the day we met Arthur, that hasn't changed, only this time Kanen's going to feel what it's like."

Arthur wasn't entirely sure that he liked the cold glint in her eye, it gave him the distinct feeling that Merlin would be a very bad person to have as an enemy.

Merlin patted his arm kindly and left in the direction of the horses, Triton already ready for her when Morgana and Gwen came out with horses of their own.

" _No!"_  was the first thing out of Merlin's mouth, jabbing her finger at the pair of them. "Don't you even think about it!"

Morgana's expression was far too innocent and Merlin didn't believe it for a second.

"You think you're going to be able to take out a couple dozen of bandits on your own?" Morgana asked archly while Gwen giggled.

Merlin huffed like a petulant child. "I could  _try,"_  she grumbled. But even if Merlin liked killing, which she  _really_  didn't, she knew it would be difficult to take them all on, magic notwithstanding.

"We're coming anyways," Gwen insisted. "You're our friend, Merlin, we're coming to help."

Morgana gave Merlin a look behind Gwen's head that brooked no argument, so Merlin conceded, calling for her mother to join them. She already had a few short words with Gaius, though they still had their differences, bidding him farewell, so they were ready to leave without a glance back towards the castle.

* * *

"What was little Merlin like?" Gwen asked Hunith once they'd camped for the night, close to the border of Camelot and Cenred's Kingdom, with Merlin poking at the logs in the fire with her sword.

Hunith smiled around her bruise, looking to her daughter with her eyebrows drawn tight together. For a moment she could see Balinor's concern when he'd heard that Uther was searching for him, Balinor who had never known she was pregnant with his child. "She was always curious and wandering, she wanted to travel and see the world…I lost count how many times Iseldir had to return her to me."

Merlin's lips curved faintly.

"Iseldir?" Morgana queried, unfamiliar with the name.

"Isn't that your godfather?" Gwen asked, her eyes jumping to Merlin. "The druid?"

Morgana's eyes widened and Merlin realized that she hadn't actually told Morgana about that bit of information. "Your godfather is a  _druid?"_

"Yes," Merlin said, "he is."

"She _adored_  him as a child," Hunith's smile was as soft at her words. "She would get so upset when she couldn't see him as much as she liked."

Merlin flushed pink and her friends laughed. " _Mum!_  I was  _five!"_

"It was  _adorable."_

Merlin rolled her eyes. Her mother liked to tell that story a lot, though rarely to someone that wasn't Merlin herself. She also liked to tell Merlin about the day she'd been born, how a vibrant bird had flown overhead, subtle but eye-catching at the same time, how she'd asked Iseldir what it was called and decided to name her newborn daughter after it.

She heard more about those stories than she ever had about her father and even after more than eighteen years, Merlin still knew so little about him.

"How is Percival?" Hunith asked Merlin a bit knowingly and Merlin could feel another flush crawling up her neck.

"He's fine," Merlin said as flatly as she could manage.

" _Just_  fine?" Hunith's eyes gleamed and Morgana and Gwen tried not to devolve into laughing fits once more.

" _Mum!"_  Merlin hissed, pressing a hand to her red face that had nothing to do with the fire.

"Are you still getting letters?" she asked knowingly.

"Mum,  _stop!"_

" _Oooh_ , did your mother meet your gentleman friend?" Morgana's eyes practically glowed in the light of the fire, almost golden.

"Hard not to," Merlin grumbled, "he was living with us for awhile." And with that said, she stood and moved to collect more wood.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have been winding her up too much," Hunith admitted when her back disappeared into the darkness.

Gwen gave her a kind smile and patted her knee kindly. "I don't think she was taking it personally, I think she's just got a lot on her mind."

"Your village, Ealdor," Morgana said, eyes flicking towards Hunith, "does Merlin like it there?"

Hunith's gaze shifted, looking back in the direction her daughter had gone. "Merlin would rather have lived in the unlivable Perilous Lands than Ealdor…she probably would've been happier there too." Having to suppress her magic for so long had left Merlin so bitter and angry towards those who lacked the tolerance of others who had gifts. There had been an incident right before Hunith had decided to send Merlin to Gaius and there'd been whispers following Merlin afterwards. Merlin had never spoken of it, her eyes sparking and dangerous. "But she was always her happiest helping others and healing was always her skill." She smiled fondly remembering when Merlin was still a child, reciting the names of the plants and what they were used for as she mixed tinctures together.

"It's good of you to come with her," she added to the pair, "but I still can't see why you would."

Morgana was a lady, the ward to Uther himself, and Gwen was her maidservant and the daughter of a blacksmith. Merlin could handle herself well enough, but what of these two?

"We owe Merlin," Morgana said seriously and Gwen nodded seriously. "She's helped us before at great personal cost. We're here to return the favor."

* * *

Darkness descended, leaving only Merlin and Hunith still awake, even as Gwen and Morgana slumbered on.

"I worry about you, Merlin."

"You _always_  worry about me," Merlin pointed out tiredly. She still remembered her mother's face going white at the sight of Cenred riding through their village, tucking her under the bed before she could be seen.

"I should never have sent you to Camelot," Hunith lamented, "it's not safe for you with Uther—"

" _Mum."_  Merlin took her mother's hands, feeling how cold they were in the autumn night. "It's all right…I think Camelot has been good for me, in a way."

"Fighting with your uncle and hiding who you are on a daily basis?" Hunith asked archly and Merlin grimaced.

"Gaius and I…it's a personal thing." It was something she was still working through, though at the pace of a petulant child. Still, she wasn't easily going to get over the fact that Gaius had once given the names of so many sorcerers to the king. "And I  _am_  doing good where I am, I know that…even if Arthur's a complete ass most of the time."

Her mother clicked her tongue at the use of crass language. "You like him."

"When he's not being an ass," Merlin conceded, her lips curling.

Silence fell and all Merlin could hear was the hooting of a distant owl and the rustling of leaves in the wind. Merlin wasn't tired in the slightest, which could have been because of how uneasy she was about Kanen and his men or how much she'd missed being off on her own in the forest.

"You know better than most that it won't matter to Kanen that you're all women," Hunith reminded her and Merlin's lips thinned into a line.

"It's _me_  he should be worried about," Merlin said, words as biting as an ice-cold wind, and it caused her mother to stare at her.

"You don't like violence," Hunith said, almost to remind her. Healing was Merlin's specialty, she'd learned at Iseldir's heel and he wasn't a violent man.

The ice in Merlin's eyes melted somewhat and she sighed, playing with the end of her plait. "No," she agreed, "I don't." She rubbed her hands together, looking into the fire once more. She might've thought that coming to Camelot had been for the best, but she couldn't deny that in some ways it had opened her to her darker side, the one that she hadn't fully been aware of until she'd come to Camelot.

She'd killed men before, but very few and unintentionally, no matter what others claimed, and then she'd come to Camelot and Arthur was always in danger and people seemed to die more frequently when Merlin played her hand.

"I miss the way things used to be," she mumbled with a heavy sigh, rubbing at the vambrace that she shared with Percival. Her heart ached in her chest and all she wanted to do was go running for border to Mercia, to see him again.

Her mother took her hand and used the other to brush the fringe out of Merlin's eyes.

"I wish magic wasn't viewed as some terrifying thing," she added hollowly.

"Maybe one day it won't be," Hunith said with more certainty than Merlin could dare to muster. "You should not have to bear this burden alone, Merlin."

Merlin thought about Uther's over-eager attitude in killing anyone seen to be using magic, from grown men to the smallest of children. And then she thought about Arthur, going against his father in order to get Mordred to safety.

"Get some sleep, Mum," she said instead, kissing her mother's temple before turning back to the fire.

* * *

Merlin had always thought that she worked best in the dead of night, that was usually the best time to practice her magic or to sneak around; she'd never really been very particular about which. She had grown rather accustomed to the night and all its sounds by the time the full moon was high in the sky, so the sounds of hoof beats was enough to put her on age.

The sensation evaporated a moment later after a murmured spell revealed it only to be Arthur, decked out in his armor, apparently following their trail, so Merlin did what anyone would've done, she snuck up on him and asked loudly behind him, "What're doing?"

Arthur must've jumped a foot as he whipped around to face her, eyes wide and startled. He swore under his breath and sheathed his sword. "Has anyone ever told you that you're too  _quiet?"_

Merlin arched an eyebrow.  _"No_. What're you doing here, Arthur? Your father won't be pleased about you running off into other lands." He'd been sent to the dungeons after the last time he'd tried to help his maidservant, and Merlin doubted this was going to be any different.

"What, did you think I was going to let you three have all the fun?" he asked and Merlin rolled her eyes before drawing him back in the direction of the camp, unaware that Arthur was watching he with a bit of befuddlement.

Whenever he dragged her out with him to go hunting she was the loudest person in the group and the one responsible for most of the game being scared off, but now she stepped carefully to make the least amount of sound possible. She had to have been so noisy during hunting  _on purpose!_  Arthur didn't consider why else that might've been a bad thing, only finding himself annoyed by it.

She stopped suddenly and he nearly knocked her over by running into her. "What's the matter with you?"

"I thought I heard something," she whispered, stilling for a moment, her eyes focused off into the darkness, like she could see something that he couldn't. "It's probably nothing," she said a moment later, pointing him in the direction of the fire while she took a step towards where she'd been looking.

"I thought you said it was  _nothing,"_  he mentioned, grabbing her arm before she could take another step.

Merlin looked back at him.  _"Probably_  nothing," she acquiesced, shaking his hand off, "just give me a minute, I'll be fine."

Arthur frowned, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't completely telling the truth.

* * *

Merlin knew she hadn't been imagining that noise, there was definitely something out there, something that didn't have anything to do with the animals that had made it their home in the forest.

She unsheathed the sword and then a shiver went down her spine at a voice to her left. "You are an impossible person to find, Merlin daughter of Hunith."

Kanen was someone she'd barely seen during the attack on Percival, but what little of his face she could remember was rather clear to be seen. Skin with a thick scar stretched across, eyes dark and angry, with a short beard sprinkled with grey hairs.

"Nice scar," Merlin said before she could stop herself and the punch she got to the face for her efforts was probably well-deserved, seeing as she was the one that had given it to him in the first place.

"You were right about her, Malcolm," Kanen said. "She's got a smart mouth."

"Malcolm?" Merlin repeated, eyes shifting to the second man that came out of the shadows and then her shoulders sagged. "Oh, you've  _got_  to be _kidding_  me."

She remembered Malcolm quite well from her youth, always picking on Merlin and William when they were just trying to play games together. He had never liked Merlin very much, always trying to antagonize her. Merlin had taken to avoiding him all-together, which had only seemed to make him even angrier, something which never made sense to Merlin as a child; why did it bother him more when he didn't see her? It wasn't like she was an explosion waiting to happen, or anything. Her mother had suspected Malcolm's intense dislike of her had come from his own mother and had to do with the fact that Merlin had been born out of wedlock.

"I told you attacking her village was the best way to get her to come back," Malcolm said to Kanen and Merlin's teeth ground together. "Hitting her mum probably helped."

"You  _bastard,"_  Merlin seethed. "That's your village too!"

"Not anymore," he grinned pearly-white in the moonlight, "I left just like you did, but I didn't leave because I had magic."

"Magic?" Merlin scoffed, fear wrapping around her heart like a tight fist. " _Please_ , I'm about as magical as a blade of grass!" She tried to remember if she'd used magic against Kanen and his men when she'd first found Percival. She might've used it on one of his men in order to gain his sword, since Merlin hadn't had one until later, but for the most part she'd been lucky and her strategy at that point had mostly been 'stick them with the pointy end and hope its sharp enough'.

"We're not as dumb as you think," Malcolm snapped back.

"That's debatable," Merlin retorted in a tone as dry as the desert.

She hadn't been focusing hard enough on the fact that there were two people trying to box her in, not one, and she had to hiss when Kanen slashed his sword, cutting across her knuckles and forcing her to drop the sword. And if she used her magic she'd be proving their beliefs correct.

Merlin hadn't felt this cornered in awhile. Not even when Girec had taken over Camelot, but she supposed that she should've been used to revenge plots by now, especially ones that were her fault.

So she chose to act on impulse, bringing her leg up and kneeing Malcolm, who was the closest, in the groin and twisting to run back in the direction of camp.

She didn't make it very far before she was grabbed from behind. Merlin fought against the hold on her like an eel trying to slip out of a grip.

It was only then that she started screaming. "ARTHUR!"

Arthur could be a real bastard, that was for sure, but he was also the one that had done the impossible to save her life before and his name had sprung from her lips before she could think of anyone different.

"ART— _mph!"_  Merlin was silenced by a gloved hand coming up over her mouth, but it was the harsh hit by what must've only been the hilt of a sword and Merlin went boneless, her world fading even with the yell of her own name echoing in the silence.

* * *

Arthur had been sitting uneasily by the fire, thinking that there was still so much that he didn't know about his own maidservant, whereas she seemed to know everything about him.

Her eyes had reflected moonlight when she said that the noise she'd heard had probably been nothing, but Arthur still went to the fire. Morgana, Gwen, and Merlin's mother were all still fast asleep.

Maybe his anxiety was unfounded but then a scream pierced the night.

"ARTHUR!"

Merlin had never screamed for help, never in the months that he had known her, so Arthur didn't even blink as the others roused at the scream, grabbing one of the lit pieces of wood in the fire and taking off in the direction of the scream, already pulling out his sword.

"ART- _mph!"_  She didn't make it to completing his name the second time.

" _Merlin!"_  he yelled, but all he heard was the sound of hooves in the distance and when he looked down, all he could see was the firelight reflected on the sword he had reforged for her.

Merlin was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's past seems to like catching up with her in the worst ways, but no one's perfect. This chapter didn't go the way I'd originally planned, but its way better and I always hated the Moment of Truth episode.
> 
> I'm switching around the timeline a bit after next chapter so To Kill the King will be before the Labyrinth of Gedref timewise.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @greygryffindor


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